


Lives Intertwined

by Trams



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Action/Adventure, Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, Declarations Of Love, Dragons, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Handcuffed Together, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing in the Rain, M/M, Pining, Romance, Sex, Sharing a Bed, alternate universe where everything is the same but there are bird sized dragons instead of birds, sappy declarations of love should just be the tag for everything I write tbh, the dragons aren't plot relevant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-09 03:41:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 40,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12268149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trams/pseuds/Trams
Summary: Dragons. Handcuffs. Forests fraught with danger. Outlaws. And somewhere in between, figuring out his growing feeings, and falling in love.Billy's having a couple of eventfull weeks.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All I wanted to do was write a short little thing about a world were everything was the same but birds didn't exist and instead there were bird sized dragons. But then plot infected the story, and I lost control of it. The dragons aren't even relevant to the plot.
> 
> Anyway, huge thanks to my friend Macca who beta read this fic, meaning it might actually be readable unlike the rest of my fics.

Billy’s tired horse trudged up the dusty hill, the sun had been beating down on them all day, and Billy had finished the last of his water a mile back, but now as the afternoon was coming to an end the sun was starting to sink beyond the horizon and a cool breeze was in the air. At the top they came across a dead hare, which had become the meal for a small flock of dragons, none of the dragons any larger than the hare they were feasting on. Despite not riding very close to them Billy and his horse’s approach interrupted their dinner, the whole flock taking to the air in a mess of leathery wings and twisting, scaly bodies. They all hissed with displeasure. Billy’s mare tossed her head a bit at the noise, Billy stroked her neck and they walked past the angry brown cloud of dragons.

Billy was used to seeing the dragons in Korea where they were all bright colors, either red, yellow or green. What he had seen in China before departing hadn’t been very different either. In America, however, earth tones seemed to be more common, a lot of grey and brown. Some with black stripes, or the mottled dark grey with their spots in moss green or burnt orange. Goody had told him of dragons on the east coast, where it was possible to spot ones that looked like they were made out of silver, or bright blue dragons that bathed in ponds, lakes and rivers.

Behind them the dragons settled down once more to eat, and Billy and his horse started to descend on the other side of the hill. Ahead of them he could see the town of Bennettville. It was a small mining town, looking much like any other one-street mining town Billy and Goody had ridden through in the past. Large successful mines meant larger cities growing near them, filled with people and businesses, but half the time the mines discovered would dry out within a few years, and the town never even needing more than one street, Bennetville seemed to be an example of the latter. This was where Goody had told him they’d meet up again. At least Billy hoped they’d meet up again. He tried to shake his head at his own doubts, but they had been nesting in the pit of his stomach for too long now to be ignored.

Billy rode past the gallows, empty save for the dragons; one was napping on top of the beam near where the noose was tied, it lay on its stomach, two legs on either side of the beam, tail hanging down and curled around one hind leg; two others sat on the beam, watching Billy ride past; underneath the hanging noose lay one curled up, with its tail coiled around itself, and wings spread out to cover it. All of them a dark grey color with black stripes. They were almost always seen near gallows, or graveyards; or, if the drunken stories told in saloons late at night were to be believed, anywhere where violence and death was about to erupt. “Baseless superstition” Goody had called it one night upon overhearing someone talk about seeing them right before a shootout, but Billy had seen Goody shiver when spotting a group of the black-striped dragons circling in the air right before one of Billy’s quick draw competitions.

Billy headed to the livery stable first, another small flock of dragons, these the small, light-grey kind were napping on the roof right above the door. They lay in a pile on top of each other, tails curled around other tails, and any one of them could have easily fit in Billy’s hand. While the dragons in America were not as bright and colorful as the dragons Billy remembered from his youth in Korea, they were generally larger, except for some of the uniform grey ones which could sometimes be almost as small as mice. Korean dragons would be pretty evenly matched in a fight against a large rat, but in America there were dragons large enough they could take even larger prey. Some were the length of Billy’s forearm, and that was just their body, not counting the tail or their long neck. Unsuitable size for keeping in a cage, but then Billy hadn’t seen that practice outside of Korea or China, where dragons could be kept in cages and sold to the wealthy and powerful as nothing more than pretty decorations.

Billy left his horse with one of the stable hands, but not before spotting Goody’s horse, and a weight lifted from his chest. He walked out again, closing the door. The pile of napping dragons hadn’t reacted when he walked in, and they didn’t react now either.

Light was fading faster outside now, dusk falling over the town. Billy walked down the street kicking up dust, the jangling spurs on his boots the only noise, until he reached the saloon, where the sounds of talking, laughter and the clinking notes spilled out into the dark beyond the light streaming from the windows.

Billy stepped through the doors, letting his eyes get used to the warm glow from the many kerosene lamps in the room. The saloon was surprisingly crowded for such a small town, every man from the mine had to be there, Billy thought. It made the room warmer than it had any right to be in such a drafty-looking building. Fortunately, everyone seemed far too busy with their own conversations to pay any mind to Billy. It was never a guarantee, but there was a moment between when people were drunk, but not so drunk that they became belligerent that they would often overlook Billy completely.

A couple of steps inside he surveyed the room, and spotted Goody before the man saw him. He was sitting at the bar, grey coat unbuttoned, and hat lying next to his hand wrapped around a tumbler. Billy started to walk towards him, when Goody who had been speaking to a man sitting next to him, turned his head and spotted Billy. He knew before Goody even opened his mouth that he wasn’t going to go unnoticed for much longer, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care, because there was a warmth spreading in his chest at seeing Goody again.

“Billy!” Goody exclaimed, his whole face breaking out in a huge grin, gold tooth glinting in the light, and crows feet around his eyes – blue eyes that seemed to sparkle. Billy’s whole world narrowed down to just Goody, he only had a vague awareness of every patron’s eyes on him, all he really could focus on was just how happy Goody looked seeing Billy. 

His breath caught in his throat. His heart started beating just a little bit faster. He tried to keep his pace and not rush towards the man, as well as schooling his face into a neutral expression, or as neutral as he could manage when Goody was practically beaming at him.

When he reached him, Goody got to his feet, still grinning, he grasped Billy’s arm, Billy wrapping his own hand around Goody’s narrow arm, and let himself be pulled into a hug. Billy hadn’t been a hugger before Goody, or more accurately Goody had gotten Billy to rediscover the old Billy who had definitely been a hugger, though usually their hugs were more brief. Now Billy’s nose was struck by the warmth emanating from Goody, as well as the usual scents, including a whiff of opium from his clothes, so perhaps Goody had been able to not smoke all the cigarettes Billy had left him with.

“I missed you,” Goody said, voice lower now, a rumble in Billy’s ears. Billy’s heart continued beating harder, and he wondered if it was something he should be concerned about. 

They broke apart, and Billy couldn’t stop himself from looking Goody over from head to toe. They hadn’t seen each other for three weeks, and Billy hadn’t been able to completely rid himself of the notion that Goody would take this opportunity to ditch Billy. Goody looked good, or about as well as he had looked when they parted, maybe a little bit thinner. But still miles from how he had looked when they met. Goody was no longer the wreck of a man he had been when their association had started.

When Billy was a kid – back home, long before he came to America – he had found an injured jade green dragon once, lying at the foot of a tree with a broken wing. Billy had carried it home in cupped hands, and set the wing. While it healed it had used to sit in the palm of his hand, tail coiled around his wrist as he fed it scraps of meat he’d saved from his own meals. He had pictured himself training the dragon, he had once seen a man with two red dragons on both shoulders, wearing little leather hoods on their heads and leashes that came off when they flew off to hunt for him. Billy had been looking forward to showing off his own trained dragon to the other kids in the village. However, once the little dragon’s wing had healed it took off, and Billy never saw it again.

Billy wouldn’t exactly compare Goody to a flighty little jade dragon, for one thing Goody bit his fingers far less – not at all actually, since Goody didn’t require hand feeding. Yet he had been feeling tense, Goody had been a wreck, but he had improved in Billy’s company. He couldn’t help wondering if maybe Goody too, now that he was better, would fly off just like the dragon. But here he was, standing in front of Billy, having waited for Billy, saying he’d missed him. Another weight lifted from his chest.

The man Goody had been talking to when Billy entered coughed. Goody looked away from Billy, who frowned.

“Ah, Billy let me introduce you, this is Jonas.”

“Jonah,” the man said, turning his head, so that Billy could see the extensive scarring all over the other side of his face.

“Yes, of course,” Goody said and turned back to Billy. “Billy – Jonah, Jonah – Billy. Jonah here tracked a killer all the way from Kansas City to this here town. I happened to stumble across him, the killer that is, when he was trying to steal my horse.” Billy would have paid money to watch the entertainment that would have resulted from someone trying to steal Goody’s horse. “So I apprehended him myself, and as thanks Jonah has offered to buy us drinks this evening.”

Jonah wore an expression as he looked at Goody which would imply that he didn’t entirely agree with Goody’s retelling of events. Billy suspected that it was the bit about offering to buy drinks, and the way Jonah turned to Billy giving him a look out of only one eye, the other a milky white, suggested Billy’s assumption was probably correct.

Goody, meanwhile, either didn’t notice Jonah’s expression or just ignored it, and sat down again, indicating the chair next to him on the other side of Jonah for Billy to sit, so he did. Goody started trying to get the bartender’s attention, and meanwhile Jonah turned back to his own drink. Billy glanced at Goody. He had been looking forward to meeting up with Goody again, and didn’t really want to share the man’s attention with someone else. He knew it was selfish, especially since Goody making friends and being social was usually a good sign. He only did that if he was in an upbeat mood, and his past not looming so close behind for a change.

Goody managed to order more whiskey for himself and a beer for Billy, when Jonah stood up.

“Well, since your friend has arrived, I think it’s time for me to leave.”

“Nonsense,” Goody protested. “We would very much enjoy your company,” Goody said. Billy thought privately that no, he would not. The look on Jonah’s face told him pretty clearly that he too would prefer not to stay, though Billy was unsure if the man personally just shied company, or if he was picking up on something from Billy. He had been trying very hard to look neutral rather than glare, but Goody had once asked if Billy was feeling particularly homicidal when Billy had merely been sitting next to the fire calculating in his head how far they had left to ride to the next town, and how their provisions fared.

“Besides, it’s not even late,” Goody continued.

“Thanks for your assistance earlier,” Jonah said with a grunt and a tone of voice that made it sound as if it was physically painful to admit as much. He dropped some coins on top of the counter, tipped his hat towards them and left.

Goody shrugged, and turned to Billy who had to suppress a shiver.

“So, how have you been?” Goody asked.

I missed you, Billy thought. Every day for three weeks I’ve missed you. He hadn’t known just how deeply attached he had grown to the man until they had parted ways temporarily. Hadn’t thought anyone could get under his skin to that extent, and as such hadn’t thought he needed to protect himself from Goody crawling in underneath and nesting in Billy’s chest, so close to his heart.

“Fine,” Billy said. ‘Better now that I’m with you again’ he stopped himself from saying. Goody gave him a small crooked smile.

“Let’s drink,” Goody said, and he raised his glass, his smile widening into a delighted look directed at Billy. His heart jumped. “To the continuation of our partnership.”

Billy smiled back and raised his beer bottle, letting Goody clink his glass against it.

Goody started telling him about what had happened to him since they parted ways, and Billy settled in to drink and listen to the comforting tones of Goody’s voice. Finding that place where the rest of the world seemed to fall away, and it was just the two of them.

Later when they were properly drunk, and had failed to rent a room upstairs, either because there were no rooms or because Goody’s speech had been too slurred and accent too southern, Billy wasn’t clear on the exact reason, they ended up in the stable. 

They weren’t the only ones sleeping there, Billy heard a man a few stalls over grousing to his horse Comet to stop trying to steal his blanket. Comet, Billy thought, was a decent name for a horse. He kind of wished he had thought of it seven months earlier when Goody asked what Billy’s new mare was called, and Billy had realized he never asked, and all he could think of had been the sign above the stable where he got the horse saying “B&H’s Horses” so Billy had told him “BH”. He had gotten a very doubtful look from Goody, and the follow up question if it was short for something. Billy had blurted out “Best Horse”. It hadn’t been a great moment for Billy. On the other hand Billy didn’t really think Goody could judge since his mare had the improbable name of Gwendolyn, Goody called her Lynnie.

They both lay side by side in the same stall as BH, who was a good horse, who would stand still and sleep all night, not step all over them. Unlike Lynnie who could be a bit _capricious_ , the word Goody had used to describe her. Billy usually caller her much less flattering things whenever she bit him or tried to kick him, though he only cursed her out in Korean so that Goody wouldn’t understand

“I’m happy you came,” Goody mumbled, as Billy was about to fall asleep, but suddenly he felt wide awake.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” Billy asked. He didn’t turn and look at Goody, just kept staring up towards the ceiling, the beams of the actual ceiling obscured in darkness.

Goody took a moment to reply, and Billy started to wonder if perhaps he had just fallen asleep, but then there was a sigh next to him.

“No, not really,” Goody said slowly. “No. But anything could have happened.”

Billy didn’t know what to say to that and stayed silent. Goody didn’t seem to be waiting for a response as he didn’t prod or say anything else. Instead Billy lay there waiting, until he heard Goody’s breath evening out into sleep.

“I missed you,” Billy whispered.

~

“We should get going,” Goody said the next morning. “We’re only two days ride from Sacramento.”

Billy privately thought it would probably be closer to three days, what with the way Goody tended to indulge his unpredictable horse’s mood swings. Billy had heard _a lot_ of: ‘Well, I guess we’ll stop here for a little break,” whenever Lynnie decided to stop and eat; or ‘Let’s take this trail instead,” whenever she ignored the way Goody was pulling the reins in the direction they had originally been heading.

They rode out of town with the sun still rising, and over their heads four of the larger brown dragons were swooping in circles in the air, bodies twisting sinuously. Goody had pointed out once that if there was no other option for food, those were edible and didn’t quite taste as bad as some other dragons. Something Billy already knew, but he had nodded anyway.

He had tried a lot of the dragons in this country, the risk of getting poisoned seemed less likely with these ones, unlike back home where they made rather dangerous eating – so of course it was a bit of a sport and a challenge to eat them and see who survived. However, even though there was no risk of dying from eating the american dragons, most of them tasted no better than rats, and rats were easier to capture, especially if one lacked energy from starvation.

They were less than a mile away from Bennettville when Goody turned to him and asked,

“Did I ever tell you about that time Sam and I caught the Larsson bandits?”

The honest answer was ‘yes’ because Billy had definitely heard that story before.

“No,” Billy said. Goody shot him a look, but didn’t call him out on it. Instead he launched right into the story. It was a good story, but mostly he just wanted to listen to Goody talk. He’d spent a lot of time lately riding in silence, and at first he had thought perhaps he needed it, but now, having Goody’s familiar cadence in his ears, he felt perfectly content.

Billy glanced at Goody, the man was so animated when telling a story, speaking as much with his hands and body, as he did with his mouth. Billy’s chest swelled with warmth and there was a tingling in his stomach when he looked away, and couldn’t stop a small smile.

They rode on, the trail crossing grass and shrub-clad hills, the grass yellow brown-ish this late in the summer, and after the past weeks of drought. To the east of them mountain peaks rose up in the distance, and the forest spilling out below them.

That evening they made camp underneath a large oak. Once Billy had his plate of food he sat down with his back against the thick tree trunk, the bark rough against his back through the shirt, the material thin from wear and many washes. Between bites he glanced up at Goody, who sat closer to the fire on a large branch that had fallen from the old oak.

The sun was still setting and the dying light combined with the flames bathed Goody in a warm glow, and Billy could barely keep himself from outright staring. It had only been twenty four hours and he was still drinking in the sight of the man, like he had been dying of thirst. There was a pang of a strange emotion in his chest, and he swallowed hard.

He was still looking when Goody turned his head towards him.

“So, how’s your friend?” Goody asked, tone carefully neutral. Billy felt it a bit inaccurate to call him a friend. Goody had friends, he’d heard enough stories about Sam Chisolm to know they had been very good friends. Billy meanwhile had acquaintances. People who owed him favors, people he owed favors. Goody was the first person in a long while who he had started to think of as a friend, a real friend. It was the first time in a long while that he had wanted to be friends with someone.

He didn’t correct Goody though, just told him the broad strokes of what he’d been up to during the past weeks. He kept it simple, skirting over all the moments when he had felt pangs of longing in his chest, when he had thought things like ‘Goody wouldn’t have done that, said that, reacted that way’; or turned to the side while on horseback to comment on something, expecting Goody to be right next to him, and the empty feeling in his chest when he had remembered he was on his own.

~

Billy had slept leaning against the tree and in the morning woke up with a crick in his neck. He was tilting his head from side to side, trying to work it out, as he walked over to the fire which had burned down during the night. He picked up a stick and poked at a charred log, attempting to push it aside, when it jumped up into the air with an indignant squawk.

Billy flinched and threw his head back, and hissed at the twinge of pain in his neck.

It wasn’t entirely unusual for dragons to be drawn to the embers in dying fires and falling asleep in fireplaces. And the ash grey dragons with black splotches could easily be mistaken for a burnt log, especially early in the morning when one wasn’t completely awake yet. He glanced at Goody but he was still asleep. The dragon flew in circles around Billy and hissed at him. Billy just waved at it with the stick and it did a few swoops towards it, talons on all four legs outstretched and mouth open, its jaws snapping at empty air, but it soon decided to fly away. Billy crouched down, grabbed a couple of fresh logs and busied himself with starting a new fire.

They continued riding after breakfast, heading closer to the forest to see if they could get some shade from the worst of the sun. They found a well used trail, not perhaps as broad as the road to Sacramento, but still well travelled, twisting in between hills and pine trees. It was wide enough for horse drawn wagons, bringing men or mining equipment. They were passed by a stage coach with six fresh horses from a way station they had passed not far back, two men with rifles guarding the driver, and two more armed men on the back of it.

They passed a wagon train heading south, the wagons drawn by oxen instead of horses, all the people old and young in the wagons singing cheerfully and their voices carried for a long while after they had moved on.

Around noon they reached a river spilling out between the trees to their right, from a source deep inside the forest. The river had dug a deep gorge into the earth, so they settled down for a break before they could follow it west to find a place to ford it. The sun high up in the sky shone down on them, and made the water sparkle. Goody took off his hat, wiping the sweat off his brow, before placing it back on his head. The horses were grazing some distance away from them, and a flock of small brown dragons were chasing flies above the horses. The only sound for a while that of the river behind their backs.

They sat in the grass and ate biscuits and apples Goody had bought in Bennettville, tossing the cores to Lynnie and BH. They made an unspoken agreement to linger, not being in any hurry anywhere, and Billy was digging through his bag for his matches, the cigarettes in his pocket, when the stillness and calm was interrupted by the sound of hooves.

Billy looked in the direction of the sound, as did Goody. It sounded like more than one horse, and his suspicion was confirmed moments later when a group of riders crested the hill Billy and Goody had descended earlier.

The strangers rode in a formation of sorts, rather than in one line. One rider in the lead followed by two horses abreast, one horse behind them and then two more horses striding next to each other. They had slowed down to a walk descending the hill, and continued in that pace riding towards Billy and Goody, when a whistle from a man in the rear had the two riders in the rear breaking off and trotting towards Billy and Goody’s horses.

Billy immediately rose up, bag slung across his shoulder, the leather strap across his chest. Goody got up on his feet as well.

One of the riders easily captured Billy’s horse. Meanwhile Lynnie, who had never been a fan of strangers, or even her own rider – not that Goody acknowledged that particular flaw in her personality – took a step back when the man still on horseback reached for her reins. Her ears turned so that they were pinned back to her neck, and she snapped her teeth in the direction of the strange horse. The man cursed, and rode closer to her. He slid off the back of his horse and caught hold of Lynnie’s reins just as she stepped backwards again. He pulled her reins, she tried to bite his arm, he moved out of the way, then lay a large hand on her muzzle, taking hold of her upper lip and squeezing and she stilled.

While that went on, the other riders carried on forwards, placing themselves between Billy and Goody and their horses.

“What is the meaning of this?” Goody asked.

The man riding in the lead dismounted and came swaggering up to them, flanked by the two riders who had been behind him and now also had dismounted. One of them a young black man, who looked quite baby faced in comparison to the grizzled white man next to him. He drew his gun, but didn’t seem to know which of Billy and Goody to point it at. And then he noticed that his comrades hadn’t even raised their guns much less drawn them out of their holsters, he lowered his gun, but he looked a lot more twitchy than the others who clearly had more experience and thus radiated confidence.

“Goodnight Robsjå,” the leader said, stumbling on Goody’s last name. “You are under arrest.”

“What?” Goody said, eyes wide and tone of genuine surprise and confusion. The man took a step towards Goody, Billy, almost unconsciously, stepped in between, hands resting on two knife handles. He felt Goody’s hand gently on his shoulder.

“There must be a mistake,” Goody said, both to the man and to Billy. Billy believed him, the other man however snorted, dismissing the notion.

“Oh, a mistake you say?” he said. “Like what, you’re not the Goodnight we’re looking for? You know many other Goodnight Robsjå?” He continued to struggle with Goody’s last name. At that moment the final man came up to them, even more swagger in his step, rifle in one hand resting against his shoulder nonchalantly, a smug smile on his lips, and he stopped with a confident tilt to his hips. Billy tensed even more, and Goody squeezed his shoulder.

“Goodnight Robicheaux,” he said, the name leaving his mouth slow like syrup.

“James Jacobs,” Goody said, sounding both annoyed and resigned. Billy wanted to look over his shoulder at Goody’s expression, but he also did not want to take his eyes off the threat in front of them.

“What fiction have you invented about me?”

“Oh, you know. The usual,” Jacobs said, a southern drawl, different from Goody’s, prominent in his voice, and still speaking oh, so slowly. “A little bit of thieving, extortion, murder, and various lewd acts with some sheep.”

Goody’s hand dropped from Billy’s shoulder, and he found himself missing its grounding presence.

“Sheep?” Goody said, disbelief clear in his voice. “Was that the best you could come up with? You truly lack the imagination to come up with false accusations.”

Billy was watching Jacobs, and while every part of the man’s appearance from his expression to his stance, to the casual way he was holding the rifle, gave the impression that he was relaxed and not feeling much of anything, his eyes on the other hand burned with an intense anger and that look was directed solely at Goody. Billy wasn’t sure Jacobs was even aware of his existence, so focused was he at staring daggers at Goody.

“Do you really expect to get anyone to believe this?” Goody asked. “You don’t have any proof since you’ve made it all up.”

Billy’s stomach was tying itself into a knot. He had a bad feeling that Jacobs wasn’t planning on getting anyone to believe these accusations, and would instead take things into his own hands.

Jacobs snorted and snapped his fingers in front of the young black kid. The boy flinched, dropped his gun, and bent down to pick it up at the same time as Jacobs said.

“Where are the cuffs?”

The kid straightened up again, without the gun, spun to head towards his horse.

“Your gun,” one of the other men said, a long suffering sigh.

The kid once again bent down and this time retrieved his gun.

“Get on with it,” Jacobs muttered. Billy was starting to wonder if perhaps he could take them on.

The kid fumbled with the gun, dropping it again, finally picked it up, and only needed two tries to holster it before he walked to his horse.

“Is that kid even old enough to shave, Hutter?” Jacobs asked the man who had first spoken to Goody.

“He was the only volunteer,” Hutter said, “his name’s Whip.”

Jacobs sighed.

“It’s hard to find good help,” Hutter said, this time turned towards Goody, and it was said in a ‘you know how it is’- tone of voice.

“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” Goody said.

Whip came back carrying two wrist-sized cuffs connected by a chain. He tried handing them to Jacobs, but he was too busy glaring at Goody and ignored the kid. As Goody was behind Billy, he wasn’t sure if Goody had picked up on the sheer hatred aimed at him. Billy wondered what Goody could have done to piss him off so much.

Whip handed the cuffs to Hutter who took a step forward. Billy gripped the knife handles, drawing himself up. Hutter was a short man, and Billy was slightly taller than him.

Billy glanced down at the cuffs and a cold chill ran down his spine.

“Bowler,” Hutter said, the only unnamed man left stepped forward. He towered over both Billy and Goody, and also had a much bulkier body than either of them.

Billy eyed him, noting the way he favored his right leg when he moved. Billy could take him. He tensed, muscles coiling and ready to spring into action, when he felt Goody’s hand on his shoulder again, squeezing gently.

“It’ll be okay,” Goody said. “We’ll get it sorted out.”

Billy’s stomach started churning with dread, and he wanted to scream at Goody for being so naive to think that they were going to be taken to a town where a sheriff would for some reason give them a fair hearing. With the way Jacobs was glaring, all the future held for them was to be taken to some deserted bit of land, something not too difficult to find in this country, and killed, their corpses left to rot. Billy wouldn’t be spared either, he wasn’t white, not that it mattered because he would go down fighting to protect Goody. The thought of Goody being killed made his insides go cold. No, no matter what, he could not let Goody die.

Bowler took the cuffs from Hutter, and took a step closer. Billy stepped all the way in front of Goody, ready to strike.

“Didn’t know you needed a bodyguard,” Jacobs said, with a sneer and an unimpressed look shot in Billy’s direction, the first time he even acknowledged Billy’s presence. Billy glared at him, and Jacobs took a half step back before he realized what he was doing.

“I wouldn’t call Billy a bodyguard,” Goody said.

What would you call me? Billy wondered briefly, but was distracted when Bowler grabbed his upper arm. Billy was about to lash out. A kick to his left leg might not disable him, but with the way he avoided putting weight on it, it might distract enough for Billy to get a hit to his side, aim for his kidneys. Images of moves flitted rapidly through his mind.

He hesitated too long, and the cuff snapped shut around his left wrist, the metal cold against his skin. His heart sped up, but he forced himself to keep his breathing even. He refused to show this was affecting him.

The cuff on the other end of the chain was closed around Goody’s right wrist, and Bowler took a few steps back.

“Take their weapons, idiots,” Jacobs muttered.

Hutter stepped towards Billy, apparently thinking that now that Billy was cuffed he was no longer as threatening. And then he reached for Billy’s knife belt.

Billy’s heart really started racing, cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck, his throat closing up, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Memories long buried coming to the surface. Of being unarmed, helpless, and swearing to himself that he was never going to be that helpless ever again.

Before he could think of what he was doing, he punched Hutter in the side of the head. Later he would be glad his gloves were reinforced across the knuckles. Hutter stumbled to the side in surprise.

Billy grabbed Goody’s right arm with his left hand.

“Run,” Billy hissed. He suspected he might look a little wild in the eyes. 

He dragged a surprised Goody into motion. The others so shocked by this turn of events that Goody and Billy were already among the trees when they reacted.

Shouting erupted behind them, Jacobs calling for their immediate capture. Then boots running after them, and bullets started flying. Shots hitting tree trunks as Billy and Goody zig-zagged between trees.

Billy’s ears filled with the sound of his own breath and the rushing of blood, not quite drowning out the gun fire, and Goody’s own hard breathing next to him. They weren’t out of breath yet.

A bullet whizzed past, just above Billy’s shoulder, and he flinched to the side on instinct, almost colliding with Goody. A hand gripped his arm, and pulled him forward again, and he found his footing.

“What are we doing?!” Goody shouted to him.

“We have to lose them!” Billy shouted back, his gaze darting all over the place, looking ahead and then down to the ground to spot rocks and tree roots that crisscrossed the path they were running on. It was narrow enough that horses would have trouble following at speed, especially with the way branches hung across the path and which Billy and Goody had to keep dodging. Instead there was the sound of boots following them, as well as shouts and more gunfire.

Billy turned his head and glanced behind them, they still had a good distance between them, their head start enough to leave the men behind. 

Billy sped up, but had to slow down abruptly when they came upon a massive tree trunk lying across the path, a wall of trees on both sides made it difficult to see either end of the trunk.

“Over,” Billy said, in a short voice. He started scrambling up, the bark rough against his fingers. Goody climbed next to him. Behind them voices grew closer, but the gunfire had stopped for the time being.

“We could have sorted it out,” Goody said when they’d reached the top of the trunk. “We didn’t have to run.”

They slid down to the ground again and started running.

“Did you not notice the way he was looking at you?” Billy asked, tugging at the chain since Goody was lagging behind slightly. “No way was he bringing you to jail.”

“So you thought it best to run?”

Billy jumped over a large tree root. 

“We lose them in the forest, make our way north,” Billy said.

“Your plan is to get to Sacramento on foot through the wilderness?”

“Yeah,” Billy said, even though none of this was planned. “How hard can it be?”

He looked behind him, and the men were catching up, there was a crashing through the bushes and trees, and some of them were clambering up and over the fallen tree. Turning his head again, he noticed Goody also looking over his shoulder with a grim set to his mouth.

Their feet beat a steady rhythm on the forest floor, breath harsh in their ears, soon muscles and lungs would be burning, but they still had some strength left.

The first panic which had made Billy flee was dimming, and leaving him a little bit more clear headed. While they were zig-zagging a bit to avoid the bullets they were still following the river as it meandered its way east, deeper into the forest. So even if their pursuers did lose sight of them they could just continue to follow the river.

The narrow path swung down to the river bank again. Billy looked past Goody, at the river and noted that it was far too deep, flowing far too fast, and far too wide for them to cross here, and it didn’t look much better up river either.

“We need to get away from the river,” Billy said to Goody who was eyeing the river as well, and coming to the same conclusion as Billy judging from the frown on his face.

“Turn right, get away from the trail,” Goody said. Billy nodded, at the same time a bullet whizzed past them, and both Billy and Goody turned their heads to look.

“Need to get away from them first.”

They sped up and left the path for a bit, stumbling between tree trunks and bushes, fir tree branches hitting them in the chest and face. They crawled underneath a fallen tree and made their way back to the path. They could still hear the boots behind them, but when Billy glanced over his shoulder they were obscured by trees and he couldn’t see their pursuers.

They ran without talking, both of them panting audibly. Billy’s lungs were burning, as was the muscles in his legs.

They reached the bottom of a long hill, and as they started running up it the trees opened up, not growing as close together at the top. They panted harshly, and stumbled on loose gravel, roots and sometimes nothing more than air, their legs tired from the long run. One moment Billy would be tugging at the chain, keeping Goody going, the next Goody would be tugging at it because Billy was stumbling and needed help steadying himself. Behind him he could hear Jacobs’s men shouting to each other to keep going, and not to lose them.

Billy and Goody reached the top of the hill, the dirt and pine needle-covered ground making way for grey rocks. They were panting hard, both of them doubled over.

“No time,” Billy muttered and gasped for breath. He was so tired, and wanted to sleep for weeks, he had no idea how far they had been running.

“Come on, this way,” Goody said, putting a firm hand on Billy’s arm and turning him to their right. In every direction around them except for the hill behind, all Billy could see was rock stretching out and the occasional short stunted tree.

“The path disappears here. We might as well take advantage of that and change direction,” Goody said.

Billy nodded and they started running again.

They covered a lot of ground running in a straight line, though Billy was painfully aware that they were a lot more open running here than they had been before, when they’d had more trees around them.

“Won’t be able to go at this pace for much longer,” Goody said between panting breaths.

“Me neither,” Billy said, and then came to a sudden stop, as the cliff just stopped, before a rocky, steep hill which plunged back into a denser forest again, with trees growing close together.

They had to slow down, picking their way carefully down to the flat even ground again. Though ‘even’ was not the right word. There wasn’t a path to follow here, instead grass, flowers and shrubs grew on the uneven ground hiding holes and tree roots from sight.

Goody took the lead now, running between the trees and doing their best not to stumble and fall and break their legs. They were moving a little bit slower, exhaustion starting to overtake them, but they could no longer hear the sounds of pursuit.

They came to a cliff standing tall in front of them, large boulders lay in a pile at the bottom of it. Billy and Goody walked closer. Billy noticed how there was enough space between the boulders and the cliff face, for him to squeeze through. Behind the boulders there was a recess in the wall, probably large enough for them both. He tugged on the chain and Goody followed him, with some muttering under his breath. The niche in the wall was large enough for them to sit down side by side. The boulders in front of them provided enough shade that it was almost dark there, and they were completely hidden from sight, but still had their guns on the ready, just in case.

Sitting there in silence, the only sound their breathing slowly returning to normal, they waited. Billy kept a silent count in his head, but he knew Goody behind him was checking his pocket watch. Five minutes passed and not a sound. Billy’s breathing was back to normal, and his heart no longer beating as fast as a rabbit’s. Ten minutes passed and still not another sound other than their quiet breaths and the sound of the breeze in the trees.

“Let’s go,” Billy said, holstering his guns.

They continued moving, this time walking instead of a mad dash through the forest.

~

“I’m sorry,” Billy said later when they were making camp, after about three hours of walking. Goody had said he suspected they had been making their way south, possibly south east, and they would have to turn around in the morning.

“Huh?” Goody looked up from where he was using one of BIlly’s knives to hack away at one of the branches they were going to use to build a lean-to underneath a fir tree.

“I’m sorry,” Billy repeated, looking down at his own branch. They had to sit next to each other on a fallen tree trunk, and quite close together. Goody bumped his leg against Billy’s.

“I wasn’t—” Billy started, and paused. Goody didn’t say anything, Billy could hear him continuing to whittle down the stick.

“I wasn’t thinking,” Billy said. “I…”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He knew he could be open and honest with Goody. Goody had been that way from the start with Billy, and even though he hadn’t said anything, the way he acted had always encouraged Billy to meet him on the same level.

“I panicked,” he admitted.

He hadn’t realized that that was what he had done, but thinking about it, then yes. He had panicked. He wasn’t sure however if he had done so because he had remembered something from his past, or if it had been because of his worry for Goody.

Billy had thought the reason why he had never wanted to let anyone inside, why he hadn’t let himself grow close to anyone until Goody, had been all because of the bone-deep conviction that letting anyone close only led to betrayal and being stabbed in the back, both figuratively and literally, he had the scar to prove it. However there had been a second reason for not getting close to anyone, a reason Billy had forgotten about long ago, back when he was still in Korea – getting close to someone meant feeling the pain when they died.

He glanced at Goody, and caught him looking at him, but turning his head away quickly.

“I panicked,” Billy repeated.

“You panicked,” Goody said slowly. “You never panic.”

“That’s not true,” Billy protested, voice low, but he remembered the time when Goody had stormed into a burning livery stable because: “I have to save Lynnie, Billy!” Billy had felt his heart almost stop then, and he had had to rush in after him. He had been the one who ended up leading Lynnie, and dragging a passed out Goody out of there.

Apparently he had a habit of panicking when it concerned Goody.

“He really did look like he wanted you dead,” Billy said. “And then the cuffs...” he hesitated.

There was something gentle in Goody’s eyes when he looked at Billy. Not pity, just kindness. 

“I understand,” Goody said. Because Billy had told Goody everything about his past. In small bits and pieces, over the long time they had known each other. Goody paused for a second and then continued. “I understand your actions. I just don’t understand him. Jacobs was always the kind of man who could never see the ‘alive’ part on a ‘dead or alive’ warrant. But this is just preposterous.”

“What did you do to piss him off?” Billy asked.

“Nothing,” Goody said, incredulous and threw his hands in the air, which lifted Billy’s hand into the air as well. Billy pulled his hand down again, tugging Goody’s down as well.

“Nothing?” BIlly said, dubious. “There was no mistaking the pure hatred in his eyes when he looked at you.”

“But that’s just the thing, all I did was cost him a bounty,” Goody said. “He can't possibly think that falsely accusing me of those crimes and then having me killed for them is a reasonable response.”

“Oh, you didn’t mention serving a warrant while I was away,” Billy said.

“Because I didn’t, not really, it was kind of a non-event,” Goody said. Billy looked at him curiously.

“Oh?”

“Well, yes. Jacobs was after this alleged thief, who kind of accidentally stumbled inside my room one evening, at this saloon in,” he paused. “Fresno? Ridgecrest? Somewhere. I don’t remember, I was a bit...” Goody trailed off, and gave Billy a strange look before shaking his head. “Anyway. This guy, Rhee something, comes stumbling inside my room, begging me to hide him because he’s been falsely accused of stealing from a gold transport.”

“Everyone always say they are innocent,” Billy pointed out. Though he didn’t really include himself in that statement. He had never claimed to be innocent of the crimes listed on his warrant, the one Goody had torn to shreds in front of Billy’s eyes when he propositioned their partnership.

“Well, sometimes people really are innocent,” Goody said. “I mean take me for example. I am innocent, and you believe me when I say I’m innocent, because you trust me.”

“Well,” Billy started, trying to not smile, but he could feel the corner of his mouth twitching. “I know because you hate sheep.”

“And because you trust me?” Goody prodded, looking at Billy. And then added in an undertone, “I do dislike sheep, that is true. They are unpredictable.”

“If he had said goat though,” Billy said, managing a straight look until he saw the betrayed look Goody gave him. Billy burst out laughing, and a second later Goody joined in.

“So what did you do?” Billy asked once they had composed themselves.

“Well, I proved he was innocent, there was a lot of strange evidence, and while I couldn’t find the actual culprit, I could definitely prove that Rhee hadn’t done it, and that it must have been a case of mistaken identity.”

He gave Billy an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry I got you dragged into this.”

“You couldn’t have known he would react like this,” Billy said. It definitely felt like an overreaction, which would have been impossible to predict. “Besides, I was the one who dragged you into this forest.”

“Which you’ve already apologized for, it’s my turn to say I’m sorry.”

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” Billy said. “I’m just glad I was there to save you.”

“So am I,” Goody said with a smile. Something tingled in Billy’s chest and he had to look away.

They worked in silence and started to put up their shelter. Billy started to regret putting it underneath the fir, as about half the needles from the tree seemed to find their way down the neck of his shirt, and he kept having to stop to get them out.

“I’m going to miss Lynnie,” Goody said out of the blue. He was holding the half constructed lean-to steady, while Billy was shaking his shirt free from needles.

“Oh?” Billy said. 

His mind going to about two and half years earlier to that time when Lynnie somehow managed to get herself free in the stable, and she got into a bin of oats, devouring it all. It had come as a surprise to everyone when she didn’t get sick. When asked why no one had stopped her, the stable hands had not stated it outright, but their mumblings and bright red faces of embarrassment, told Billy that they had just been too afraid of her. Seeing as the two also looked like they were no older than twelve, Billy and Goody didn’t chew them out too much. Though later Billy had wished they had been allowed to chew out the owner of the stable when he insisted they pay for all the extra oats she had consumed. That had set them back a bit economically. So Billy wasn’t sure he would necessarily miss her or her mercurial temperament.

Billy went back to working on the lean-to.

“She wasn’t even mine technically. Sam bought her for me,” Goody said. “Sam Chisolm,” Goody clarified. Billy didn’t say anything about how he didn’t know any other Sam who Goody also knew, or that Goody had only ever mentioned Sam Chisolm, who Goody already owed quite a lot from what Billy had heard.

“Well, he didn’t exactly buy her for me,” Goody said. “It was more that he bought her and then loaned her to me when we started riding together. And he’d say that once I got back on my feet, and had my life together earning money again, I could pay him back.”

“I never did pay him back,” he added.

~

That evening, with the lean-to finished, they did an inventory of what they had on them. Goody only had one revolver, plenty of spare bullets, however his rifle had been strapped to Lynnie’s saddle. Billy had both his guns, as well as his knives. He’d even found an old whetstone in his pocket – Goody had given him a new one before they temporarily parted ways – but it was of course in a different saddle bag, and not the bag Billy had slung over his shoulder. That bag only had an extra canteen – which was a blessed thing to discover – the matches Billy had been looking for – he pocketed them along with the remaining cigarettes in his breast pocket – and then the rest of the space in that bag had been taken up by an old, thin threadbare blanket which was mostly a rag at this point, but it would be better than nothing.

Goody pulled a long piece of string out of his pocket, and looked somewhat confounded by it.

“When did I? Why?” he mumbled while Billy snatched it from his hands. He figured he could probably find some use for it. He knew how to make one or two rudimentary traps to catch rodents of any kind – as well as one that could theoretically work to capture a dragon. Though it would work better on hatchlings who were just learning to fly, but most dragons hatched in spring – and the string would be useful.

Goody also pulled out some beef jerky from one coat pocket, and Billy had the package of biscuits in one of his pockets. They shared the biscuits and jerky for dinner.

“We are going to end up up eating dragon aren’t we?” Goody asked, and made a face. Billy shook his head.

“Squirrel,” Billy said.

“Well, I guess that’s marginally better,” Goody said, and pulled his flask from a pocket. He took a swig, and then handed it to BIlly who took a drink from it as well. The alcohol burning down his throat.

Goody’s coat also turned out to have a compass in one of the pockets.

“We shouldn’t have to be out here for too long, we just need to get as far away from where we started as possible,” Billy said, while handing one lit cigarette to Goody. “And then we’ll just make our way out of the forest and continue north.”

He was making it sound easier than it probably would be. The fact that they were cuffed together was already a bit of an issue.

As night fell Goody started to yawn, and Billy felt exhausted. It had been a long day and a lot of it had been filled with running.

“So,” Goody started when they stood looking down at their lean-to. The blanket had been spread out on the floor, on top of the branches they had littered the ground with.

“So?”

“How are we going to do this? I mean, it’s not the shortest chain, but I think lying down on our sides back to back, or even back to front will have one of us lying with our arm in an uncomfortable position all night.”

“Why not lie on our backs?” Billy asked.

“Not the best way to conserve body heat.”

Goody sat down, pulling at the chain.

“Just,” he said and Billy knelt down in front of Goody.

“Just come here,” Goody said. He put his right hand on Billy’s left and pulled him down so that they were lying on their sides facing each other, their cuffed arms resting on the ground.

Billy’s eyes widened a little as he looked at Goody’s face. There was a small frown between his eyebrows, and before he even thought about it, Billy lifted his arm, almost reaching out to smooth a hand across Goody’s forehead to get rid of that little furrow, but he stopped himself with his arm suspended in the air. To have something to do with it he laid it across Goody’s waist.

“Is this good?” Billy asked. Goody hesitated, and closed his eyes.

“Yes,” he said, before moving his own arm to lay it across Billy’s waist, a warm comforting weight curling around him, and pulling Billy even closer so that they were right up against each other. Goody leaning his forehead against Billy’s breastbone.

“Better to conserve body heat,” Goody mumbled. Billy hoped Goody couldn’t actually feel how hard Billy’s heart was beating. He took a deep calming breath, leaning his chin on top of Goody’s head, hair tickling his chin.

“Of course,” Billy said.

“Sleep well,” Goody murmured.

Billy wasn’t sure he would be able to fall asleep, too aware of Goody in his personal space. Too aware of the heat between them. But soon enough the exertion of the day pulled him under, and he fell asleep.

~

Billy woke the next morning feeling hot, sticky with sweat underneath his clothes, and clinging to Goody. During the night they had pressed even closer to each other, their legs tangled together, and Billy was embarrassingly aware of their hips pressed against one another, and how painfully hard he was. Billy, with some reluctance – and he should probably examine that reluctance at some point – untangled his legs from Goody, and rolled over on his back.

Usually on mornings when Billy woke before Goody, he would start doing what chores needed to be done in the morning, starting the fire, preparing breakfast, checking traps to see if something had gotten caught during the night. Now however none of those things were an option.

He took a deep breath, the smell of Goody still strong, but mingling with the scents of the forest. He rolled his head a little to look at Goody. Sleep relaxed some of the lines on his face, and he looked oh so peaceful. Billy could wake him up, the sun was rising, and they had both slept through the night and were therefore well rested. Billy glanced down at Goody’s mouth, lips slightly parted as he breathed.

Billy didn’t know how long he just lay there gazing at Goody’s face, enjoying the feeling of warmth spreading inside his chest. Another thing to contemplate another time.

A fly landed on Goody’s nose, and Billy started to reach out to swat it away, without touching Goody, when the man scrunched up his nose and the fly flew off. Goody yawned, and Billy sat up quickly. No need for the man to wake up to Billy staring at his face. Instead Billy scanned the forest around them.

In a pine not far from them sat an inky black dragon.

Billy had seen black dragons in Korea as well, it seemed to be a color common for dragons no matter where in the world one was. However their scales all seemed to shimmer with different colors in the sunlight, anything from deep green, indigo or purple. The black dragons were larger than the ones he had seen in Korea. Some dragons were simply longer, their tail and necks longer, maybe a little more substance to their bodies, but the black dragons were significantly larger and stockier, with a thicker tail. It hunted larger prey, and didn’t just scavenge for meat. Billy and Goody had once seen one snatch an underfed cat. They had both been close enough that throwing a few rocks and shouting at it had made it let go, and the cat had disappeared like a shot to hide and lick its wounds.

Beside him Goody moved and Billy felt a tug on his cuffed hand. He glanced over at Goody who was in the middle of trying to stretch. He gave Billy an apologetic look from under the arm he had lifted.

Billy shrugged.

“You gonna drag your lazy ass out of bed anytime soon?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Goody said, lowering his arm again.

Billy looked back at the black dragon, just as it yawned, and threw itself off the branch. Its wings spreading out, a wingspan larger than any other dragon, soaring through the air and then flapping, climbing higher and higher. The black dragons were solitary, unlike almost all other dragons who were almost always in a flock or at least in pairs of two. He didn’t think he’d ever seen more than one black dragon at the same time.

~

After an hour and a half of walking they found a narrow path through the forest, which seemed to be heading in a northeasterly direction, and they started following it. It wasn’t really wide enough for them to be walking side by side, but they made do. Another two hours later and they came upon a river flowing south, and they walked along its bank, heading upstream.

The river had carved its way deep into the earth, river banks mostly dirt and rock, with shrubs and grass growing in patches, and the occasional tree, so it was easy to walk next to one another. It did mean that they didn’t have the shade of trees overhead, and while their hats kept the worst of it out of their eyes, it was still awfully hot, and in the midday heat they quickly found themselves drenched in sweat.

Billy walked closest to the river, the water far below sparkling in the sun, and the sound of it a steady white noise in his ears. Goody on his left was another constant noise, as he was alternating between whistling and humming some song he had forgotten the words but could remember the melody to.

They walked past a pine tree growing so close to the edge its roots were spilling over the edge and the crown bent so low it seemed to be frozen in the middle of a dive down to the water below. They had just rounded it when they came to a downhill slope, and Billy thought he could hear a louder rushing sound in front of them. 

They carried on walking downhill, the pines now growing closer to the banks were interspersed with some leafy kind of tree Billy couldn’t identify. They had to zig-zag between trees with moss growing on the trunks, with the sound of rushing water growing louder.

Soon the trees opened up into a clearing, and they found themselves next to a pool of sparkling blue water. Green grass and flowers in white, and yellow underneath their feet grew almost all the way around the pool, and a waterfall cascaded down a sheer cliff face opposite from where they stood.

The river Billy and Goody had been following wasn’t the only branch flowing from the waterfall, there was a second branch flowing west.

“We should take a break and go for a swim,” Goody said, wiping his brow.

“Really?” Billy asked. The water in the pool itself seemed calm enough on the surface.

“We’re both sweaty and dirty,” Goody said, and Billy couldn’t disagree with that, they were.

“True, but how are we going to take off our shirts?” Billy asked, shaking the chain between them. “They’ll get wet either way, and we don’t really have any replacements so we’d have to wait for them to dry.”

Goody made a face.

“Didn’t think of that.” He sighed and looked at the pool with longing in his eyes.

They settled for splashing their faces in the water. Kneeling down on the grassy bank of the pool, where the water was only a foot below the edge, they were so close to each other their elbows bumped. They could cup their hands in the cold water and drink, before splashing it all over their faces.

Billy had taken off his hat and ran wet fingers through his hair, and down to his neck, little droplets making their way under his shirt and down his back. Goody meanwhile dunked his whole head into the water. Billy had to grab the back of his shirt and pull him up when it looked like he was leaning too far forward, and on the verge of falling in.

“So now what?” Billy asked, while Goody shook himself, not a lot unlike a dog, with water flying everywhere.

“North is over there,” Goody said, pointing across the other branch of the river. The branch they had been following earlier had for most of the way been deep down, narrow but the water level far below the edge, except for at the very end. The other branch was a lot wider, but they could still see the other side.

Billy walked over to the bank, pulling Goody along.

On their side of the river, the drop to the water wasn’t really a drop, two or three feet at most. It was deep, with a swirling fast-moving current, but there were rocks sticking up, some far enough above the water level that even with the waves, they stayed dry. It looked like there were rocks all the way to the other side, though some seemed quite far apart. Billy looked across the river, the bank on the other side rose up and the edge far above the water surface. They were going to have to climb once they got across. If they got across.

“We could head west, see if we find another place to cross,” Goody suggested, looking down at the churning water.

“Nah, we can do this,” Billy said, after all the first couple of rocks seemed to be reasonably close together.

“You do remember we are cuffed together right?” Goody asked.

“We can do this,” Billy said again, a small thrill of excitement going down his spine, at the challenge.

Goody hesitated for another second.

“Well, if you say so.”

The first couple of rocks were easy, they were wide and at the same level as the bank had been and therefore bone dry; they were also close enough that Billy could take the lead and Goody could follow one stone behind, all Billy had to do was stretch his hand back, and Goodys hand stretched forward.

A quarter of the way they could both crouch down on a massive boulder.

“See, this is easy,” Billy said. Goody grinned at him, and not for the first time did seeing Goody grin at him make Billy’s stomach flutter.

On the other side of the boulder grey stones were scattered about at random, offering several different potential paths, and Billy wasn’t sure he could see an obvious one to take. But he had taken the lead so he was going to figure it out.

A couple of rocks looked like they would be easier to reach, even though that would take them at first further left instead of in a straight line.

Billy counted to three and they jumped. The sound of rushing water was joined by the sound of dull thuds as their booted feet landed on the rocks, and the jangling of the chain between them. They got back in a rhythm again after their little break, clearing three stones in a short amount of time.

Billy counted and jumped.

“Shit!” Goody exclaimed.

Billy felt a tug on his left hand, he instantly pulled it forward as hard as he could, and in a split second spun around to his left. He saw Goody with his arm outstretched, stumbling forward. Billy realized he had pulled too hard. Heart jumping a little, he watched Goody make a half hearted jump, because it was that or fall head first into the water. Fortunately he managed, barreling into Billy. He caught Goody, but had to take a step back, heel of his boot ending up off the edge of the rock. He swayed but managed to scoot forward a little bit, steadying them.

They stood chest to chest, their cuffed arms pressed awkwardly in between their chests, Billy’s other arm clamped tight on Goody’s upper arm, their heads resting on each others shoulders.

“I’ve got you,” Billy murmured. He was breathing hard, as was Goody.

“Close call there,” Goody said, breath ghosting over Billy’s ear and neck.

It felt as if they stood like that for a very long time before Billy could make himself let go.

“Come on,” Billy said

They continued moving forward from rock to rock without incident, until soon a wall of hard packed dirt and stone rose in front of them. It was very tall, towering over them and even if they jumped they wouldn’t have reached the edge.

“How are you at climbing?” Billy asked.

“A bit late to ask about this now isn’t it?” Goody said. Billy shrugged. He had a point.

They had made it to a rather wide rock just beneath the bank, large enough for them both to stand side by side on it, if they stood close together, but water was lapping at their feet.

Billy started climbing with Goody next to him. It was an easy wall to climb, rough and uneven, with a lot of stones jutting out that made for good hand holds. Grateful for his upper body strength, he pulled away a little from Goody.

He was almost at the top when he grabbed a root of some kind hanging over the edge. He was going to use it to pull himself up when it dipped down a bit, and he felt it start to come loose. Heart speeding up, he grabbed the root with both hands, and breathing hard he pulled at the same time as he scrabbled with his feet against the wall.

Then there was nothing to hold onto at all. The ground underneath the root gave way. He dropped a feet. It was still holding, but now hanging straight down instead. Dirt fell into his face, some getting into his mouth and eyes. For a split second he thought he was going to manage, but then his grip on the root slipped and he fell.

He started to yell, but was brought to an abrupt stop when Goody wrapped his hand around the chain link. Billy’s shoulder twinged in pain, but he didn’t think he’d dislocated it because that would have hurt more. He was hanging with his arm above his head, and he closed his eyes taking a deep breath.

“Billy?” Goody said, voice a mix between concerned and strained.

“I’m fine,” Billy said. Opening his eyes again and searching the wall for purchase, he was able to find new hand holds. The tension in the chain slacked a little, but not much since Billy now was further down.

“Thanks.”

They continued climbing, and Goody soon pulled himself over the edge and then helped Billy up as well. 

They sat for a bit on the edge, legs dangling, catching their breath.

~

“We are going to end up halfway up a mountain if we don’t turn west soon,” Goody said the next morning when they were moving again, continuing to follow another animal path they had found the day before.

They continued to pass by pine trees, every now and again there would be old oaks with thick trunks, or impossibly tall trees Billy didn’t recognize. The ground however was getting more rocky, most of the rocks covered in a dark moss, which grew on the trees as well. They had to keep an eye on the ground to avoid stumbling over the tree roots criss crossing across the grey granite.

Without the sound of a rushing river the forest had fallen silent around them, the only sounds their boots on the ground, the occasional twig snapping underfoot, or rustling in the trees or bushes.

They were climbing more and more hills, at first short and not so steep inclines that soon leveled out, but as the day went on the hills grew longer and steeper. They were walking on cliffs more and more often, trees getting more sparse and the dirt making way for bare rock.

Eventually Goody started talking, breaking the silence that had been hanging over them. The familiarity of Goody’s voice settling something in Billy that he hadn’t known was out of order.

They jumped over a crack between two cliffs, it hardly gave Goody pause, and Billy smiled. At least as long as Goody was talking he wasn’t worried about anything, and that helped relax Billy.

They reached a hill going down, the ground returning to the pine needle-covered dirt and green grass instead of rock. They walked past a stand of tall purple flowers.

However, soon enough they reached another steep incline, which had them both winded as they walked up it.

“We should really have started heading west,” Goody said, panting as they stopped in the middle of the hill to catch their breath.

Trees had closed in on their right, but between them Billy could spot a grass, flowers and shrubs, and how the ground dipped down in what looked like an even longer hill as he couldn’t see the bottom of it. On their left they had a cliff that was slowly becoming taller and taller. Further up ahead the dirt path they were walking around curved around the cliff, and among the brown pine needles Billy could see large paw prints from some animal. He hoped they were old prints. While he could catch some animals, he definitely wasn’t a good tracker.

He turned back to look at Goody.

“Should we double back and see if we can find another way?” Billy asked. They probably wouldn’t get far if they did. It was afternoon and they would need to make camp soon.

He saw movement in the corner of his eye and turned his head and spotted a bear, with cinnamon brown fur it came around the corner ahead of them.

“Shit!” Billy exclaimed, and took a step back in surprise. Only the ground seemed to have vanished. Losing his balance he started to fall, he felt a tug on the cuff, Goody trying to catch him, but it was way too late. Goody came crashing into Billy and together they toppled over, falling down the hill to their right, and they started to roll down it.

Billy grabbed Goody’s arms, and Goody grabbed his as they rolled. Bushes whipped at Billy’s face, and he bounced off of rocks and tree roots bruising his body. Their pained grunts mingling in the air.

They landed in a heap at the bottom of the hill, Billy on his back with Goody on top of him punching what remaining air he had out of his lungs. He had his eyes shut and let out a groan. Every part of his body hurt. Goody let out a similar pained groan. And then Billy heard the angry hissing.

Snakes, was Billy’s first thought, his heart felt like it stopped and every muscle froze. What if they had landed in a nest of snakes? He could feel fear settling in his chest like a cold, heavy lump.

He opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was Goody’s wide open blue eyes staring back at him. He caught movement in the corner of his eye and Billy turned his head quickly catching a glimpse of something flitting past in the air, moving very fast.

He could also make out that they were on a cliff, very few trees in front of them, except the burnt out husk of a pine tree a few feet away.

The hiss sounded again. Two dragons flew into view, only about two feet away.

“Oh,” Goody made a sound as he spotted them.

The dragons were mottled dark grey with spots in a burnt orange color. Billy had only seen one of those once, and only briefly.

“Those are rare,” Goody whispered.

One of the dragons continued hovering in the air hissing its displeasure at them. The other one landed on a rock below on all four feet. It wasn’t a very large dragon, but there was still some size to it, about as long as Billy’s forearm. It folded its wings together, letting them rest along its back, so that the wing tips rested on the tip of its long tail.

“They breath fire,” Goody said.

“Oh,” was all Billy could say.

He watched the grey dragon lift its head on its long neck. It opened its mouth showing off its teeth and then looked like it took a deep breath. When it breathed out there was a lick of flame bursting from its jaw. Fortunately it wasn’t close enough to do any harm.

The dragon hovering in the air made a shrill sound towards the sky.

“We should probably leave,” Billy said.

“Sounds like an excellent idea,” Goody said.

The air filled with the sound of flapping wings followed by at least three dozen of the grey and orange dragons swooping towards them, breathing fire.

“Yep, definitely time to leave,” Goody said.

They scrambled to get to their feet, Billy elbowing Goody in the chest, and Goody almost kneeing Billy in the groin. Billy started running in one direction when he got up, only to have his arm yanked to the side. He groaned from the the dull ache in his shoulder from the day before.

“Sorry,” Goody said. He had started running in a different direction.

Two dragons, breathing fire, swooped down low towards their heads. Billy ducked and watched Goody do the same.

Straightening up again, Billy tugged at the chain and started moving forward.

“This way!”

They started running, in the same direction this time, but then his foot caught on a root and Billy stumbled. A strong hand gripped his arm, steadying him and pushed him forward. Billy got his feet back under him and they ran side by side.

Billy glanced over his shoulder and the dragons were gathering up in a cloud behind them, before moving as one towards them, all of them breathing fire.

Some dragons broke free from the cloud and swooped over their heads. Both Billy and Goody threw their hands over their heads, but the dragons didn’t actually attack, they seemed more intent on getting Billy and Goody to run away, which was what they were trying to do.

Suddenly the ground dipped in front of them, and Billy heard rushing water over the sound of flapping wings.

“Stop!” he shouted, and they skidded to a halt right at the edge. Looking down he saw a river, the stream moving a lot faster than either of the rivers the day before.

“We should jump,” Billy said. The drop wasn’t that bad, they could probably survive it.

“You sure?” Goody asked.

They didn’t really have time to discuss it, both of them glancing over their shoulders at the cloud of dragons getting closer.

“Yeah,” Billy said. He looked at Goody, and there was so much trust in Goody’s face. Billy’s heart twisted. The way Goody believed in Billy – it was almost overwhelming at times.

“Yeah, jump,” Billy said.

They jumped.

~ ~ ~


	2. Chapter 2

Billy kicked his legs and broke the surface coughing and sputtering. The water wasn’t freezing cold, but it wasn’t warm either. The current was already carrying them forward, and Billy settled for kicking his legs to hold himself afloat. Goody shouted something, but he couldn’t make it out.

“What?” Billy shouted, at the same time as a wave washed over his head. He got a mouthful of water down his throat. He gasped for air and started coughing uncontrollably.

Another wave pulled him under, and he barely had time to catch his breath. Breath which was pushed out of him just as quick when his back was slammed into a rock. He felt Goody pull at him and Billy clawed furiously at the water, kicking his legs to break the surface again.

A hand grabbed his shirt front and pulled him up. Billy coughed and his sight was blurry at first. He managed to push his wet hair away and clear his eyes. Goody looked at him, looking not wholly unlike a drenched cat, and about as happy as one. His lips were moving, but with the rushing water he was struggling to hear him say anything at all, except for Billy’s name, which he was mostly getting from reading Goody’s lips anyway. Goody was holding Billy’s shirt in his left hand, the other he had slung around a rock, holding them still for now.

“Billy, Billy…”

“I’m fine,” Billy said, even though he didn’t feel fine. He had swallowed a lot of water and his back felt like one massive bruise.

After catching their breaths they continued swimming, or more accurately fighting to stay afloat while the current moved them forwards. The waves got taller, washing over Billy’s head continuously and he was coughing and sputtering, starting to feel a little bit lightheaded. Billy and Goody were pulled apart by the current and waves and then slammed back against each other.

They were pulled apart again, the chain stretched at full capacity between them, when they came upon a tree branch sticking out of the water. Billy and Goody being carried by the current on each side of the branch. They were forced to a full stop, but could still feel the current tugging at them.

Goody was closer to the branch and was attempting to swim against the current to get around the branch, when it broke. At the sudden slack in the chain Billy was violently thrown forward again, at the same time as a wave washed over him, pulling him underneath the surface. His back hit the rocky bottom and pushed all the air out of his lungs. Water poured down his throat, and he started to panic, gasping despite its uselessness. There was a pull at the chain, but the current started to drag him away, and he couldn’t focus enough to bring himself to the surface. Black spots danced in front of his eyes, and then nothing.

~

His head was reeling, and every single one of his senses felt oddly muted. But he thought he could feel hands on his face, fingertips brushing his cheeks and then warm palms cupping his face and a voice, a familiar voice.

“Come on, come on cher, open those pretty eyes for me.”

Billy started coughing, and strong hands rolled him over on his side and he started throwing up water, feeling like he was turning his insides out trying to get rid of all the water.

He continued retching and coughing for several seconds before noticing the hand rubbing circles on his back, and Goody’s voice telling him that it was okay, that he was going to be okay.

Eventually the coughing died down, and he panted for several seconds before he could sit up, feeling somewhat lightheaded, and thankful for the hand on his back. He opened his eyes and saw Goody sitting next to him, a worried look on his face.

They were sitting on a gravel bank next to the river. Several large boulders behind them, and behind those more tall trees.

“Are you alright?” Goody asked. “You didn’t hit your head, did you?”

“Don’t—” Billy coughed. “Don’t think so,” he said, his voice gravely and his throat hurting. It felt sandpaper dry, which was odd considering all the water he had swallowed.

“So no concussion, just a near drowning,” Goody said.

Billy turned his head to look at him.

“Did you say my eyes are pretty?” Billy asked. Goody’s eyes widened slightly.

“Ah, no,” Goody said slowly. “You must have been pretty delusional, imagining things. Because of the lack of oxygen.”

But there was a flush on his cheeks, and he looked away from Billy.

Billy licked his lips, but was unsure how to react to it, and so let it drop.

“It’s going to get dark soon,” Billy said. Goody nodded and held out the canteen to Billy.

“Don’t you think I’ve had enough water?”

But he took it and drank a bit anyway, before accepting Goody’s hand to help him up on his feet. He felt unsteady the first few steps, but it passed quickly.

They made their way through the shrubs between the trees and scared up a few squirrels. Billy threw a few of his knifes, even with a hand trembling slightly after the near drowning he still managed to get three.

Their clothes had started to dry eventually, but were damp and cold and sticky to their skin, and they were both of them likely to catch something if they didn’t get out of them soon.

Goody took the lead and soon they reached a tall cliff wall, and at first Billy thought they were just going to make camp next to it, but Goody continued walking with one hand stroking along the rock. Eventually in they came upon a bunch of large boulders and a crevice in the cliff, which didn’t look like much at first, but when they rounded the boulders Billy and Goody spotted a dark opening in the cliff.

“Aha,” Goody exclaimed, when they stood in the cave mouth, a tinny echo coming to them from deeper in the cave. “A cave.”

It was not a deep cave, and the ceiling was rather low, so they had to walk a bit hunched and the top of their heads still occasionally brushed the rock above them.

“Please don’t let a bear call this home,” Billy said as they walked inside.

“Will you fight a bear to protect me, Billy?” Goody asked.

“I’ll throw you at the bear as a distraction so that I can get away,” Billy said. Goody shot him an over the top hurt look. Billy held an impassive face for another second before he grinned.

“I knew you were joking,” Goody said, pointing at him.

“Of course I’d protect you,” Billy said, elbowing him lightly and still smiling.

“Billy Rocks versus a bear,” Goody said, musing. “Maybe we should make that the show.”

“What?”

“Have people bet on who’d win in a fight; you or a fearsome bear.”

“Be a short lived show.”

“What, you don’t think you’d win?” Goody asked, amusement making his eyes sparkle.

“I think you’d grow tired of having to capture a new bear all the time,” Billy shot back.

~

They gathered some wood together and started a fire in the mouth of the cave, just as darkness started to fall. Billy started to strip out of his still damp clothes, pushing his pants down his legs, when he looked up and caught sight of Goody looking at him.

“Shouldn’t sleep in damp clothes,” Billy said.

“Oh, of course not,” Goody said, looking a little flushed, but Billy put that down to him having been in charge of starting the fire.

“You should too,” Billy said. 

Stepping out of his pants, his underpants were mostly dry, and he left them on while he started unbuttoning his shirt. He pulled it off on one side, and pushed it down his other arm so that it was dangling on the chain, and wondered if perhaps he should just slice the sleeve open, he could always stitch it together. He looked up at Goody to ask, but stopped with his mouth open.

Goody had his shirt unbuttoned, still hanging on him, but wide open, and his pants were unbuckled and hanging low on his hips. Goody had his head bent, eyes on the ground, as he started to push his pants down. Billy stared, transfixed for a moment, at Goody’s chest, at the way the fire light made his skin glow, his mouth going strangely dry. He shook himself out of it and reached for one of his knives instead and started working on the sleeve.

He handed Goody the knife and once they were both in their underwear they spread out their clothes on the rocks near the fire. They sat down close to it, letting the flames keep them warm while Billy prepared the squirrels.

They ate and talked, teasing and joking around like everything was normal, despite the circumstances being far from normal. Billy appreciated how familiar and comforting it all was after the day he’d had. He kept catching little glances Goody threw his way, and he wasn’t sure if it was some lingering concern and worry after Billy almost drowned, or if it was something else. Something he wasn’t sure he dared put into words yet.

When they had gathered wood earlier they had also dragged in branches from pine and oak, and after they had eaten they went deeper into the cave, finding a little alcove that was almost shielded from the fire, but not quite. There they made a bed of sorts with pine branches at the bottom and oak on top. They were both shivering in the cool night air, and so rather than sleeping on the blanket, they curled up close together and pulled it over them, it and their shared body heat would have to be enough to keep them warm.

~

He hadn’t been asleep for long, he could still hear the fire crackling, when something woke him up. He came to awareness slowly, and it took him a moment to feel the eyes on him.

“You’re staring at me,” Billy said mildly, and he heard Goody shift, but he didn’t think he looked away.

“Does it bother you?” Goody asked. Billy only had to think for half a second before replying, “No.”

Billy didn’t mind Goody looking at him, never had. Because Goody never looked at him the way most people looked at him. Not even when they first met, when Billy had just finished kicking the asses of five men in a bar – when most people would look at him with fear or intimidation, or even anger; anger that some Asian guy was stronger than their fellow white men – Goody had only looked impressed. 

Later when their acquaintance grew into a partnership and a friendship, when they grew closer, Goody only ever looked at him with kindness. The man could be glaring and staring down someone else one second, but as soon as he looked at Billy there would be kindness or concern, or so much happiness it made the corners of his eyes crinkle, and Billy’s heart skip a beat. It was as if just looking at Billy made the man happy.

Recently Billy had caught Goody looking at him in a different way, a way that made Billy feel hot all over, and he wished he knew how to bring it up. To ask if it was because of the same reason Billy couldn’t help stealing glances at Goody.

He opened his eyes and met Goody’s gaze. Billy’s arm was slung around Goody’s waist, and he felt him shiver.

“Cold?” Billy asked.

“Among other things,” Goody said.

Billy scooted even closer, even though he was already rather close. He pressed up against Goody, chest to chest, noses so close they brushed against each other. Billy’s heart was beating so hard he found it hard to believe Goody couldn’t hear it.

He didn’t know who moved first, perhaps they both did at the same time. Their noses bumped as they leaned in for a kiss. Goody let out something between a chuckle and just a strangled sound, cut short when Billy tilted his head and slotted their mouths together.

Dry lips became anything but dry as they kissed. Billy nipped at Goody’s bottom lip teasingly, and Goody buried one of his hands in Billy’s hair, fingernails scraping lightly against his scalp, and Billy made a pleased sound and tightened his arm around Goody’s waist.

“Billy,” Goody murmured in between kisses, before Billy deepened their kiss. It felt so natural kissing Goody. As if everything had been leading up to this moment, without Billy knowing it.

He pulled back his head nothing more than an inch, still craving the closeness. He opened his eyes and looked at Goody’s flushed face, his eyes closed and the dark sweep of his eyelashes against pale skin. Billy rolled over Goody, who went willingly, on his back, and Billy straddled him in one move. The blanket falling off them and pooling on the ground.

“You want this,” Billy said in wonder and Goody opened his eyes and looked up at him, the expression on his face raw and open with emotion.

“Oh, sweet Lord, Billy, yes,” Goody breathed, his hands going to Billy’s thighs. “I can not even begin to tell you how much I want this.” He squeezed Billy’s thighs, kneading them, and Billy didn’t have the air in his lungs to tell him it hadn’t been a question. “You—” another squeeze. “Your beauty has had me captivated to the point of distraction for so long now. Diamonds are less brilliant than you are, all the jewels in the world could not even hope to approach your loveliness. You shine, Billy Rocks.” 

There was a warm glow in the center of Billy’s chest growing brighter and hotter.

“You are a beautiful piece of art,” Goody said.

“I am a person,” Billy pointed out, feeling his lips twitch and he almost smiled, before running a nail down from Goody’s sternum and down across his belly, making Goody shiver.

“Ah, well of course,” Goody said, he lifted his hand, letting his fingertips brush across Billy’s cheek. “I got a little bit carried away.”

“Oh, well, by all means continue, I just felt I should remind you. But do go on.” Billy smiled.

“I fear the moment is lost, and much like my breath when looking at you, all poetry has left me,” Goody said, staring up at Billy with eyes that shone.

“I find that hard to believe,” Billy said, still smiling amused. He leaned down and kissed Goody again, because those red, spit-slick lips were irresistible. At the same time he ground his ass back against Goody’s crotch, feeling his cock growing hard through the layers of their underwear.

Goody ran a hand up Billy’s thigh, until he pressed the back of his knuckles against Billy’s hardening cock, only the thin cotton material between skin on skin. Billy straightened up and gasped and bit his bottom lip.

“I can’t believe—” Goody mumbled. “If I’m dreaming I never want to wake up.”

Billy’s left hand was on Goody’s upper left arm, and the other hand he moved to right on top of Goody’s hand, pressing him firmer against Billy’s cock.

“Not— mmm— not dreaming,” Billy said, rocking against their joined hands on his cock.

Though he wasn’t entirely sure about it himself. There was something dreamy about the whole thing, how it felt as if the world had narrowed down to just this moment, this place. The way the dying fire illuminated them, throwing shadows on the wall, and Goody practically glowed in the light.

“Can— can I?” Goody asked.

“Anything,” Billy whispered, and Goody didn’t hesitate. He pulled down Billy’s underwear enough that his cock could spring out, standing up, red with blood, hard and proud.

Goody wrapped his hand around Billy’s cock and he forgot how to breath for a second.

“Gorgeous,” Goody mumbled.

Billy put his hand back on Goody’s hand, making him squeeze a little bit harder as his hand slid up and down Billy’s cock.

“I want...” he moaned as the calluses caught on his foreskin and then Goody cupped the head in his hand and squeezed a little and the moan Billy let out was even louder.

“What?” Goody asked. “What do you want? I will give you anything. Anything you ask for.” And Goody was far too coherent Billy realized as he continued, “I will give you the world. I will wrap it up with a large bow and give it to you on a silver, no— gold platter.”

Billy let out a huff of a laugh, and Goody smiled at him, a twinkle in his eye. Billy scooted back so that he was sitting on Goody’s thighs. He pulled on the chain, and got Goody to sit up instead.

He leaned in and kissed Goody, as he bucked up into the firm hold still on his cock. Precome made his cock slippery and the glide of their hands felt amazing.

“Only want you,” Billy said, breathless, and then let go of Goody’s hand and pulled out Goody’s cock. It was already leaking and slick when Billy started stroking.

“God that’s—” Goody moaned. His other hand was on Billy’s thigh again, and squeezed hard. “That’s— Good.”

“Have I found a way of making you speechless?” Billy asked, grinning. Goody opened his eyes and looked at him.

“You take my breath away, so yes,” Goody said in a strangled voice, and Billy’s own emotions washed over him. He was overwhelmed for a moment, frozen in place until Goody grabbed both of their cocks in one hand and squeezed.

Billy threw his head back and moaned.

Goody’s cock was hot against Billy’s, firm but skin silky smooth as they were squeezed together. Billy gripped Goody’s hand, their fingers interlacing, sliding up and down, precome mingling and slicking their hands.

Billy moved his other hand to the back of Goody’s head, fingers tangling in his hair and pulled him into a kiss. Starting out slow and sensuous it turned frantic and sloppy soon, with both of them rocking into their fists, rutting against each other, chests bumping.

“Billy, Billy,” Goody gasped into Billy’s open mouth.

“Yes, yes, oh Goody,” Billy moaned. They weren’t kissing anymore, merely breathing each other’s air, trying to get as close to each other as possible. 

Billy felt his balls draw up, all the muscles in his body tightening and he could feel it coming. He was standing on the ledge of a cliff again, about to jump off.

“Goody, Goody...”

“I got you, come on,” Goody urged.

Billy let himself go, groaning as he sagged forward against Goody’s chest, coming between them, coating their stomachs and joined hands.

Billy panted against the sweaty skin in front of him, and he felt Goody pressing soft kisses to the top of his head. Billy had let go of Goody’s cock, but between them he could feel Goody’s hand working at a furious speed. And not a moment later he felt the splash of Goody’s seed on his stomach, and his ears filled with the way Goody shouted his name with reverence.

~

Later, when they were lying down again, twined together, sated and with a happy fizzing feeling in Billy’s chest, Goody murmured.

“You really do take my breath away.”

They had their arms around each other, and Billy’s head nestled in under Goody’s chin.

“The handsomest man there is,” Goody continued to whisper into Billy’s hair, warmth curling in Billy’s stomach. “The moon and the stars all bow down to your beauty.” Billy couldn’t help the huff of breath, or the small smile on his lips. “I would watch your face over a million sunrises and sunsets.”

Billy drifted off to sleep to the sound of Goody whispering.

~

When Billy woke the following morning he was on his back, with Goody on his side pressed up against Billy, one leg slung over Billy’s and his head on Billy’s chest, fingertips lazily tracing the line of a scar on Billy’s stomach.

“Morning,” Billy said.

“Morning,” Goody replied, breath warm on Billy’s skin. Goody lifted himself up and crawled  
so that he was leaning over Billy, looking down at his face.

“So last night wasn’t a dream?” Goody asked, and Billy felt himself unintentionally tensing, bracing for something.

“No, not a dream.”

Goody smiled, corners of his eyes crinkling. Billy relaxed.

“So how do you feel about a morning kiss?”

“I’d say it’s pretty much required,” Billy said. Goody’s smile widened. He leaned in and pressed a quick close-mouthed kiss to Billy’s lips. Billy grabbed the back of Goody’s head and held him there, turning the kiss into a longer, more sensual open-mouthed kiss.

“Can get used to that,” Goody said, licking his lips when Billy let him pull back. Billy licked his own lips, and knew he definitely could get used to it. He sat up and Goody sat down in front of him.

“I missed you,” Billy said, and then swallowed hard. He needed to say this. “Before.” Billy looked at their cuffed hands, Goody’s resting on top of his own. “When we were off separately. I know I was the one who said I had to do it alone but—”

Fingers touched his chin, and he let Goody turn his head so that he was looking at him.

“Whatever you want,” Goody said, a small reassuring smile on his lips.

“Can we not do that again?” Billy asked, feeling so uncomfortable revealing himself, but their relationship was changing, and he should be able to reveal more.

“Of course,” Goody said, with such honesty. “Where you go, I go.”

“Where you go, I go,” Billy repeated and smiled. Goody leaned forward and kissed him. Billy grabbed him when he started to pull back and kissed him again. They were probably never going to leave, but Billy found it difficult to keep his hands off of Goody, and even harder to stop kissing him.

Eventually they did leave, and soon were walking through the forest talking and laughing like normal. It felt good, felt right. He did steal glances a Goody, and he smiled whenever he caught Goody glancing at him. But his heart also swelled at just watching the profile of Goody’s face, his animated body language when he talked.

However while they had lingered in the cave, kissing and generally being unable to keep their hands off of each other, the sky which had been so pleasantly blue for so long had begun to cloud over, and as they walked the clouds grew darker.

“It’s going to rain,” Billy pointed out. Goody looked up at the sky, and shook his head, shoulders slumping.

“It hasn’t rained for weeks, why now?” Goody muttered.

An hour later it started. Fat raindrops peppering them, and as the rain continued to fall, they felt about as drenched as they had been the previous day after their dip in the river.

“Should have stayed in that cave,” Billy muttered.

Goody let out a huff of a laugh, and then grabbed Billy’s arm, stopping him. He was spun around and Goody drew him closer, so that they stood pressed together, wet shirts pressed tight between them. Water droplets glistened in Goody’s eyelashes as he looked at Billy, eyes crinkling and lips smiling.

“Wha…” Billy started, but stopped when Goody raised a hand and pushed some of Billy’s wet hair away from his eyes, and carded his fingers through Billy’s hair.

“Beautiful,” Goody said.

“Don’t start that again,” Billy said, but smiled.

Goody leaned in, still smiling, and Billy met him halfway. Wet slick lips sliding against each other’s, and Billy heard Goody sigh as he gripped the back of Billy’s head. Billy’s free arm went to Goody’s upper arm, gripping it tight. All around them rain fell, wet cold drops that should have been distracting as they made their way underneath their collars, or trailed down his cheeks, but Billy hardly noticed them. His whole world narrowed down to Goody. Everything was Goody, and he willingly and helplessly gave himself up to him.

Too soon they pulled apart, both of them breathing hard, leaning their foreheads together. Billy licked his lips slowly, savoring the taste before he opened his eyes.

“You,” Billy started. “Everything about you drives me crazy.” Billy didn’t have Goody’s way with words, didn’t share the man’s proclivity for hyperbole, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t say exactly what Goody did to him. Goody smiled brightly and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Billy’s mouth, before taking a step back and Billy missed the closeness.

“We should get going,” Goody said with some reluctance, but then he started to grin and there was a twinkle in his eyes “You have to stop distracting me or we won’t get anywhere.”

“You’re the one who—” Billy sputtered, mock outraged. Goody laughed and started to take a few steps forward, tugging at the chain binding them. Billy walked up to him and pushed him lightly, unable and unwilling to hide his own smile. Goody laughed again, and shoved Billy back. Because he could, Billy leaned in and pressed a wet kiss to Goody’s cheek, tasting rain and Goody.

~

The rain continued on all day and into the evening. They carried on walking even after darkness had fallen, until eventually they had to stop after Goody walked into a low hanging branch.

“We are going to get ourselves killed in the dark,” Goody said grimly. The good cheerful mood of earlier in the day had been replaced during the day by a gloomier mood because of the weather.

They quickly constructed a rudimentary lean-to, in which they huddled close together, shivering in the cold. Neither of them slept that night, instead they held each other close, whispering stories into one another’s skin, interspersed with kisses. Some stories they had already told, but it wasn’t really about the stories, so neither one said anything as Goody told his, often amusing, stories of riding with Sam Chisolm, and Billy talked about growing up, about life in a completely different country.

When the rain let up into only a light drizzle, and the clouds shifted to a lighter hue, they started walking once more. They reached a steep hill around midday, at least Billy thought it was midday, it was hard to tell without the sun. Because of the rain the hill had been turned into a long downward slope of slippery, deep mud.

Their immediate surroundings filled with the squelching sounds from every time they took a step and their boots sank a little bit into the mud, and every now and again they slipped a little on the mud.

“Whoop!” Goody suddenly exclaimed. Billy had just enough time to turn towards him, to see Goody slip in the mud and fall, and then he was pulling Billy along.

Slipping and sliding, and rolling they tumbled down the hill, speed increasing rapidly. Billy got cold wet mud in his eyes, mouth, nose and everywhere else.

They landed in a heap at the bottom of the hill. Goody sprawled out on his back, and Billy lying across his stomach. Billy spat on the ground, and did his best to try and wipe the mud away from his eyes and nose, but he was truly covered in it. Under him Goody groaned.

“You okay?” Billy asked.

“I’ll live,” Goody said and groaned again.

“I am never setting foot in another forest after this,” Billy said. He got to his feet, holding out his left hand and helped Goody up.

“What if I end up in a forest?” Goody asked, trying and failing to brush dirt off of his vest. Billy was looking more at the mud splatter on Goody’s face and trying to tell himself that it was silly to still be attracted to the man when he was covered in mud. He was unsuccessful at convincing himself of that fact.

“You go where I go,” Goody said.

“Why would you want to go back into a forest?” Billy asked incredulous before he started walking, Goody following.

“What if I’m kidnapped and taken deep into a forest?” Goody asked.

Billy stopped, turned around and looked at Goody with a serious expression.

“I would never let anyone take you away,” Billy said.

“Ah, of course,” Goody said, lips twitching into a smile. “I promise you it was not any doubt about your prowess,” Goody said. “After all I know you would fight a bear for me.”

Billy snorted before smiling and he started walking again, Goody falling into step next to him.

~

They didn’t stumble over the abandoned cabin, though with the way they had been stumbling through the underbrush it wouldn’t have surprised Billy if they had literally stumbled over the burnt remains of the cabin.

It was located in a clearing, trees and bushes all around them and there was a soft rustling in the bushes nearby, nothing emerged from them, but Billy was wary. 

The cabin had been small, four walls and a roof presumably, only one wall remained, the other three and the roof were nothing but black charred wood. Tall grass was growing in the middle of the ruins.

Curious, and since the rain had stopped, leaving them with only an overcast sky still light enough for them to see, they walked over to the ruin and poked around for a bit. It was mostly debris, and nothing special, until Goody came across a metal tool box in the corner. It was full of tools, including a small axe which Goody picked up, giving it a considering look.

“We should try cutting off the chain,” Goody said.

Billy carried the box, in case they could use something else in it, while Goody took the axe, over to a flat tree stump. They knelt down on either side, the chain held across the stump.

“I could try cutting the cuffs straight away?” Goody said.

“Are you sure about that?” Billy asked, and waved his hands in the air. “Let’s remember these are our livelihood.”

“You are right handed,” Goody pointed out. Billy scoffed.

“I’m just as good with my left.”

“True,” Goody said, and Billy nodded, satisfied, and handed Goody the whetstone.

After sharpening it, Goody lifted the axe. It had survived pretty well in the box. The metal had darkened, and there was some sort of grime on it, but only two small spots of rust.

It took a couple of tries. Goody kept hitting the chain in different spots each time, so while it made dents it wasn’t enough to sever the chain links.

“Give it,” Billy said reaching out with his free hand after the axe had bounced uselessly against one link and the sharp edge lodged itself in the wood a little too close to Billy’s hand for his comfort.

“I’m getting the hang of this,” Goody protested, a stubborn set to his jaw.

Billy leaned over and pressed a kiss to the corner of Goody’s mouth, which made him look up, and while he was distracted Billy took the axe from his hand. It really was too bad he wouldn’t be able to use that as a method of distraction once they were back in society.

It took a few tries for Billy too before he managed to zero in on one spot and kept hitting it until the chain was finally cut. They could then start using some other tools to open up the cuffs. Their skin raw and red underneath. They used their handkerchiefs to tie around their wrists.

“At least we won’t be dragging each other down any more hills,” Goody said. It’ll just be one of us rolling down.”

“Maybe we should try not to fall down any more hills?” Billy suggested. Goody laughed and Billy smiled.

Another rustling in the bushes interrupted, and Billy looked over. A grey mottled dragon emerged from the bushes, walking on all four, wings folded together. A large orange spot on its chest, and as it saw Billy and Goody it unfurled its wings which were covered in so many orange spots they were almost entirely orange. It opened it’s mouth.

“Time to go,” Goody said, grabbing Billy’s sleeve.

~

The next morning they woke on a cliff overlooking a small lake. Billy was the first to wake up, curled up with his chest against Goody’s back, nose buried in Goody’s neck, and one arm holding the man tight.

He savored the moment for a couple of more minutes, enjoying the warmth of Goody and being allowed to hold him close. Eventually he sat up and brushed a kiss on Goody’s temple. Goody murmured something unintelligible, but didn’t wake up. 

Billy smiled before crawling out from their lean-to, built between lone pines on the cliff. He took a few steps before he stopped and stared out at the lake. The water was completely still, acting much like a mirror and glittering in the early morning light. Beyond the lake he could see several bare mountain peaks rising out of the forest.

Billy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the familiar scent of the forest in his nose. He stood there for a moment longer, just feeling himself relax.

He climbed down the back of the cliff and went about finding something for them to eat.

It felt a little bit unusual going back to their usual routine in the morning, after several days of being cuffed together and doing everything at the same time. It felt a bit strange not having that, or maybe it was just because of the change in their relationship.

When Billy returned, carrying a couple of dead squirrels, Goody already had a fire started and was sitting next to it poking in it with a stick. But he looked up at Billy and smiled when he came climbing up the cliff. Billy’s heart leapt in his chest, he couldn’t get enough of Goody looking at him, and the way it always seemed to make the man so happy.

While they ate in companionable silence, the branches of the pines they’d slept beneath started to fill up with brown dragons, eyeing Billy and Goody’s food and waiting hungrily, when they weren’t squawking and nipping at each other. Every now and again one or two of the dragons would swoop over them, and circle around before landing once more on a branch.

Billy tossed one finished squirrel carcass onto the cliff several feet away, and immediately about half the dragons swooped down and started fighting for it. Goody tossed the squirrel he had finished into the mess as well.

They finished their breakfast to the sound of dragons fighting, hissing and squawking. Every time one of them finished a squirrel they tossed the remains to the dragons setting them off again.

With breakfast done with they left what remained for the dragons, climbed down the back of the cliff and turned away from the lake, heading north-west.

~

They left the forest, walking on top of a long ridge, the trees on its slopes recently felled. They came upon a group of lumberjacks who pointed them in the direction of Sonora.

Sonora was a bustling mining town, with more than just the one street. Billy had been through the city before, having discovered they had their own small Chinatown, just a block nestled in between four other streets. There was a big difference between Korea and China, but a Chinese harbor had been where Billy had left from on a ship to America, and he had spent some time there before leaving. 

Besides, in any town’s Chinatown he could walk down the street and not feel everyone’s eyes on him like he was some sort of oddity, which was what inevitably happened in the smaller towns where he probably was the only Asian man they had ever seen. Though he did notice they were getting some looks, presumably because their clothes were covered in mud, and falling apart, their own persons were also dirty, with various scrapes all over them.

They walked down the street, little storefronts with their signs in Chinese, some of which BIlly could read, on both sides of the street. There was a large bustling crowd to navigate, all of the people speaking loudly and fast, Billy only caught a few words here and there. It was a big contrast to the lonely forest with only Goody as company.

Continuing on they left the crowds, the sounds, the smells behind and made their way to Sonora’s main street. Fewer people moved about there, probably because they weren’t squeezed together in such a small area. Here though they spotted groups of miners who were about as dirty as Billy and Goody themselves.

Having been to the city before it was easy for them to find their way, even if the city had definitely grown since the last time. New buildings had popped up, but the hotel was still there.

Goody was able to arrange a room for them, it even had a bathtub and hot water, so while Goody headed up to the room Billy went out and bought them some new clothes. When he returned Goody was already soaking in the metal tub standing in a corner of their rather spacious room. On the floor was a trail of dirty clothes from the door to the tub.

Goody was sitting in the tub with his arms hanging over the sides, and head tilted back, a blissed out look on his face, a little bit of steam rising from the water. Billy closed the door quietly, eyeing the rest of the room.

“We should just burn the old clothes,” Goody said, and Billy looked back at him. He still had his head tilted back. “There’s just no saving them.” Goody opened his eyes and tilted his head forward again to look at Billy.

“You might be right,” Billy said, dropping the new clothes on one of the beds. He looked down at himself while still lingering near the door. Goody frowned at him.

“Come here,” Goody said.

“Goody…”

“Come on,” Goody said, a slight whine in his voice. “The water’s still warm. Lock the door and come over here.”

Billy hesitated, biting his bottom lip. But he locked the door and walked over slowly.

“What if...” Billy started.

“What if what? Someone barges in here?” Goody asked. “I’ll just tell them you’re washing my back.”

“Will we both even fit?” Billy asked, but he started to remove his clothes. They smelled and were stiff from all the dried mud on them.

Billy sank down into the warm water between Goody’s spread legs, leaning his back against Goody’s chest, and let out a content sigh. The water felt amazing. After being cold and bruised it felt amazing to just sink into the warmth and finally relax. He could practically feel the tension seeping out of him and into the water.

“Feels great right?” Goody asked.

“Yes,” Billy said, almost a moan, and Goody chuckled.

Billy made another pleased sound and tipped his head back to rest it on Goody’s shoulder. He placed one hand on Goody’s warm knee sticking up out of the water. He closed his eyes and relaxed even further.

They were silent for a couple of minutes, just enjoying themselves relaxing.

“Are you going to fall asleep?” Goody asked.

“Mhm,” Billy nodded. He probably wouldn’t really fall asleep, but there was a chance he’d come close to dozing off.

“Unless you distract me.”

“Oh, is that a challenge mon cher?”

Billy didn’t respond, nor open his eyes, but he smiled. After some prodding from Goody, and then twisting and tilting a bit, their lips could meet, without either of them running a high risk of developing a crick in their neck.

They kissed languorously for a long while, both of them relaxed in the warmth that had enveloped them. Billy lost track of time completely, and he was happy to do so.

They broke apart slowly, Goody sucking on Billy’s bottom lip for a second, and once he let go, Billy kissed the corner of his mouth. At some point Goody’s hands had moved to cup Billy’s face, and they ended up staring into each other’s eyes.

“I could kiss you for an eternity, and still wish to kiss you more,” Goody said. Billy huffed out a breath, but he couldn’t deny that warm feeling curling in his chest and he licked his lips before smiling.

“You are ridiculous,” he said, even though he echoed the sentiment wholeheartedly.

Goody’s hands dropped down to Billy’s arms, and Billy could lean in and lick the hollow of Goody’s throat. They were clean now, tasting of water and soap, and they had beds now. All Billy wanted to do was lay Goody down, spread out on the bed and explore every inch of him with his tongue. And since they were already blurting out whatever came into their heads, Billy told Goody as much, whispering it into damp skin. Goody shivered and Billy pressed butterfly kisses all along his collarbones.

“Will you let me wash your hair first?” Goody asked. “I have spent many nights dreaming of touching your hair, wishing I could wrap it around my fingers. It looks like it is always so lovely.”

“It’s really not,” Billy said, with a smile

“I would love to make sure it is though,” Goody said. Billy huffed, amused but wanting Goody’s hands in his hair, he turned his back to Goody’s chest again. He let his hair sink into the water and made another pleased sound once Goody started running his fingers through it.

~

A kerosene lamp stood on the drawer in between the two beds, on the opposite walls above the two beds hung shelves on top of which candles were lit, and on the table in the other end of the room, opposite the bathtub, stood another kerosene lamp – filling the room with a soft glow along with the still setting sun outside shining through the one window.

“This how you were picturing it, mon cher?” Goody asked, spread out on the bed in front of Billy who was kneeling on the edge of the mattress and just looking at him.

“Mhm,” Billy murmured, and Goody looked pleased.

Goody was still a little bit wet from the bath, and Billy leaned forward, hands on either side of his body, and started pressing kisses to the lingering water droplets. He heard a small sigh from Goody and the man relaxed.

He kissed Goody’s stomach, catching a droplet right next to his belly button, moving up and pressing a kiss on a pec, and then the other one just to be fair, another to the top of his sternum, slipping his tongue out and licking at the soft skin, tasting water, the soap and a little bit salt. 

Billy moved down again and leaned over Goody so that he could brush kisses down his side. He felt how Goody tensed up again, and a minute flinch. Billy frowned and sat back up again looking at Goody’s face, which was flushed and his mouth was slightly open.

“Are you okay?” Billy asked. Goody nodded quickly.

“Of course, of course.”

Billy moved his hand to Goody’s side, brushing his fingers lightly across his skin, watching Goody’s mouth snap shut, lips pressed tightly together and eyes widening, minute flinches away from Billy’s fingers, as he clearly tried to stay still.

“Are you ticklish?” Billy asked, failing to keep a smile hidden, because of the wave of delight he felt.

“No,” Goody said, obviously lying.

Billy brushed his fingers up and down Goody’s side, and now he was actively flinching away from Billy’s hand, strangled noises from between his closed lips. Billy leaned down, this time brushing his nose against Goody’s skin lightly, skin positively trembling as he tilted his head, rubbing his stubbled chin feather light against his side.

“Ah, darling,” Goody said, breathless and Billy sat back up again, grinning down at him. Continuing to stroke Goody’s side, pressure so light as to almost not being there at all. Goody did a full body shiver now, and flinched away from the hand. Billy followed.

“You sure you’re not ticklish?” Billy asked.

“You are a menace, Billy Rocks,” Goody said, without any anger, instead just seeming amused. He launched himself at Billy who let out a huff of air as he was pushed on his back down on the bed with Goody looming above him, grinning down at him.

“Are you ticklish?” Goody asked.

“No,” Billy said, trying to be as convincing as possible.

“We’ll see about that,” Goody mumbled. His hands starting to roam Billy’s body. Billy arched into his touch, until he started to get close to Billy’s knees. He quickly, before he could really think about it, had Goody in a leg lock and toppled him down towards the wall, and sat up in one fluid motion. He smiled at Goody who laughed and then launched himself at Billy.

They began wrestling a bit while laughing and inside Billy was marveling at the whole thing. He had had sex before, but it had never been _fun_ , pleasurable certainly why else do it. But it had been serious, had never had a lead up of wrestling and laughing. Whatever foreplay there had been had been brief, and impersonal.

The bed was too narrow for playful wrestling however, and with a thud they soon landed on the floor in a heap. They still laughed however, lying on their sides looking at each other. Goody’s eyes were glittering, and Billy knew he himself had the biggest grin on his face.

“I have an idea,” Goody said, voice still laced with laughter.

“Oh?”

Goody nodded.

“We’d have to get back on the bed.”

They crawled back up onto the rumpled sheets. Goody kissed him, and when he pulled back Billy grabbed him and pulled him back into a kiss, wanting more of Goody’s kisses and how addictive they were. Their kissing starting out slow, before turning passionate and more open mouthed with more tongue. Licking into each others mouths. Heat pooling low in Billy’s stomach, and he was growing harder. 

After kissing him, Billy let Goody arrange him to match his vision, liking the way Goody’s hands were warm and strong on his skin.

“This was your idea to prevent me from tickling you?” Billy asked incredulous. He was lying on his side with his head at the foot of the bed, Goody’s crotch and half-hard cock jutting out right in front of his face. His head was pillowed on one arm, his hand resting on Goody’s thigh, directly on top a scar from a bullet wound, scarring radiating out in lines from a jagged, but unmistakably round center hidden under Billy’s palm. With his other hand he reached up and stroked Goody’s side lightly – he too lying on his side, but head the other way – delighting in the way he moved under Billy’s fingers.

A hand landed on the back of Billy’s leg, and before he could react fingers brushed the back of his knee. Billy gasped and his legs twitched at the tickling sensation shooting up his body.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you initiating the wrestling just as I was about to reach this spot,” Goody said.

“Alright, alright, truce,” Billy said.

Goody rested his hand on Billy’s thigh and leaned in, licking at Billy’s softening cock, awakening it again.

“Mmm,” Billy murmured. He leaned closer and returned the favor. Licking a stripe from root to tip, listening to the way Goody moaned, hot breath ghosting over the head of his cock, his hips twitching slightly. 

Goody took the head of Billy’s cock into his wet hot mouth, sucking and licking around it, and Billy groaned as his cock swelled. Billy pressed his tongue against the firm length of Goody’s cock, it was hot against Billy’s tongue, and Goody moaned around Billy’s cock, making BIlly’s hips jerk.

“Fuck,” Billy groaned, and then took Goody’s cock in his mouth. Working one arm in underneath Goody, and then curling it around the top of the man’s thighs the other arm wrapping around it too, pulling him even closer. He sucked hard, and moaned when Goody took even more of Billy’s cock into his mouth. The other man had one arm underneath Billy’s legs, the other hand gripping Billy’s hip.

Billy moved his head back a bit, so that he only had the head of Goody’s cock in his mouth, tongue swirling around it, and then pressing the tip of his tongue to the slit, tasting salty precome.

Goody moaned, the vibrations on his cock setting off sparks all they way up his spine, and he couldn’t help thrusting forward. He could feel his cock hitting the back of Goody’s throat, making the man cough. Billy pulled back, his cock slipping out of Goody’s mouth, and then he stilled, wrestling back control over his own body.

“Sorry, sorry,” Billy murmured, having to let go of Goody’s cock. His insides flashing between hot and cold, sweat beading on his skin. It took him a moment to register the calming circles Goody was tracing on his hip.

“Don’t,” Goody said, voice hoarse. Billy looked down between them, and saw Goody licking his lips. “You’re allowed to lose control,” Goody said. Billy closed his eyes and shook his head. No, he wasn’t supposed to lose control. He was always in control of himself.

He felt Goody lick at his cock, little short strokes of his tongue, and soft quiet sounds of pleasure. He opened his eyes again, at which point Goody stopped, and with their necks craned they looked at each other.

“I want you to,” Goody said. “I want to bring you so much pleasure you lose that tight control you keep over yourself, but I am not asking you to do anything you are uncomfortable with. Just,” he paused. “Don’t apologize.”

“Don’t want to hurt you,” Billy said, fingers finding the raised skin of the scar on his thigh again. Fingertips following the lines to the center. “Don’t ever want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Goody whispered, and then pulled Billy’s hips close again before swallowing down Billy’s cock. He threw his head back with a loud moan before he could stop himself. Goody hummed sounding pleased.

Billy gripped Goody tight and took his cock back in his mouth again, sucking and licking with slurping noises slipping past, and Goody’s hips twitched and jerked. Billy gripped him tighter and sucked harder. Outside their room the sun was setting, but inside they curled in towards each other into a tight ball of limbs fitting perfectly, and pleasure brought them to new heights as they brought each other off.

~

Later Billy was stretched out on the rumpled bed sheets, naked with part of one sheet pulled over his waist, feeling content and sated.

The door opened and Goody stepped back inside the room, carrying two plates of steaming food.

“You know,” Goody started to say, before he had even properly entered, and then he stopped when he spotted Billy, behind him the door he had kicked as he entered slid shut with a dull thump and a click.

“I know?” Billy prompted, but Goody was looking back and forth between the food and Billy.

“Are you terribly hungry?” Goody asked. Billy frowned and raised himself up so that he was leaning on his arms, hands behind him. The sheet slipped a little further down. He saw Goody visibly swallowing hard, and realization hit Billy.

“Seriously?” Billy asked. “You’re ready for a second round already?”

Goody looked a little bit sheepish and walked over to the table, placing the plates down.

“Okay, maybe not, but must you look like temptation incarnate when I walk through the door? It’s immensely distracting.”

Billy grinned, a pleased curl of warmth in the middle of his chest, and he flopped down on the bed, stretching out again, hands above his head.

“Hopeless,” Goody said, but there was a note of fondness in his tone that made Billy’s heart swell. “Come eat before it gets cold because we decided to give it a go after all.”

Billy sat up again, crossing his legs underneath the sheet.

“What were you about to say, before you got,” Billy grinned, “distracted?”

The smell from the food began to waft in his direction, and his stomach growled.

“Huh?”

Goody looked a little bit confused. Billy meanwhile got off the bed and walked stark naked over to the table. Goody’s expression turned from confusion to slightly dazed. Billy smiled, picked up his plate, walked back to the bed and pulled the sheet over his lap – not because of a sudden case of modesty, but because he didn’t want to drop food on himself.

“Goody,” Billy said. “Focus.” He held the plate in one hand and used the fork in his other to point at Goody, who was staring off into space, mouth slightly open. He shut it with a snap, and shot Billy a look.

“You are a tease, Billy Rocks.”

Billy just shrugged and dug into his food. It was silent for a second.

“We could stay here,” Goody said suddenly. “That’s what I was going to say. We can stay here a couple of days. Recuperate.”

Billy looked up from his food, Goody was watching him with a contemplative expression. “Shouldn’t be too hard finding some people interested in trying their skill against you in a quick draw competition a day or two from now.”

“And then?” Billy asked. Goody shrugged.

“Move on, continue like before,” Goody said, with a frown.

“What about Jacobs?” Billy asked, taking another bite.

“What about him? He probably thinks we died in the forest.”

“And when he finds out you didn’t?”

“Why would he find out?” Goody asked. Billy raised an eyebrow.

“You are Goodnight Robicheaux. People talk about you when they’ve met you.”

The expression Billy caught a glimpse of before the man turned his head to look out the window looked pinched.

“What if he doesn’t bother with a pretense next time?”

“And what do you propose?” Goody asked, still looking out the window at the dark sky outside.

“We don’t let him go after us first, again.”

“Billy…”

“Eat your food before it gets cold.”

He looked down at his own food, but waited until he heard the sound of knife and fork against the plate, and then he went back to eating.

They ate in silence for a bit. Billy wolfing down his food. It felt good to eat properly again, to have enough to eat. He had gone through worse, had been starving once or twice, at least they’d had something to eat in the forest, even if it hadn’t been much. Finally being able to eat his fill though felt great.

He finished and got up and walked over with the plate to the table.

“You want the rest?” Goody asked. Billy noticed that Goody had only eaten about half. He shook his head.

“You should finish it.”

“You sure?” Goody asked. Billy nodded.

“Yeah, you eat it.” He pulled out the other chair and sat down opposite from Goody.

“And are you sure you don’t want to stay a few days and teach the men here what it looks like to actually draw fast?”

“I have you talking me up. I don’t think I need my ego stroked even more,” Billy said.

“Liar,” Goody said, accusing but smiling before taking another bite.

“Maybe,” Billy said, with a small smile.

“He’s just a dumb moron though, we could just leave him alone,” Goody said.

“A _dangerous_ and dumb moron,” Billy said. It was always the worst combination. “I know his type.”

“Bounty hunters,” Goody said, something in his tone making Billy take notice, as Goody looked away again.

“You are different,” Billy said. Goody turned back to his food.

“In what way?” Goody asked. “You know more about me than you could ever know about Jacobs, what makes you think I’m any different?”

“You told me the reason Jacobs hates you is because you believed a complete stranger when he told you he was innocent, and you proved he was.” Billy said. Goody looked up at him, but Billy continued, “Meanwhile me, who is anything but innocent, me you looked at and decided I deserved to live, that the world would be poorer without me.”

“You are,” Goody said, the conviction in his words so hot it was burning.

“Jacobs on the other hand got so pissed off at losing out on serving a warrant for an innocent man, he wouldn’t have given me the first chance to prove myself.”

“He isn’t just going to leave you alone,” Billy continued. “You humiliated him.” And white men were oh, so fragile when it came to humiliation, it always seemed to unleash a torrent of rage, as well as any pent up violent tendencies.

“I do trust your judgement,” Goody said with a nod. “If you say we should go after him, then that is what we’ll do.”

He finished his last few bites of food.

“Thank you,” Billy said. Goody smiled gently.

“No need for thanks.”

“But there is,” Billy said. Goody looked at him, and then nodded.

~

“Jacobs hasn’t been through here,” Goody said the next day when he returned to the room having been out asking around if anyone had seen the man. “We could go to Sacramento, if he headed north he might have gone by Sonora, but he would have gone through Sacramento. We’re going to have to go there anyway if we’re to wire for money.”

“Yeah, we’re rather low on funds,” Billy said. He had spent the morning trying to replace some of the essentials, but had been unable to purchase new horses. They could stay in Sonora a few more days, go with Goody’s first idea, have a competition, get bets going, they both knew how to get the most money out of it. However Billy felt impatient, they needed to pick up the trail soon, or the man would just get time to find out Goody was alive, and attack them first again.

“Well,” Goody said. “I did hear of a merchant of sorts leaving today, he doesn’t have any hired protection and I figure we could always offer our services. I don’t have my rifle, but between our pistols and your knives we’re still a damn sight better at protecting someone than someone untrained trying to hold a rifle to fight off outlaws.”

Billy nodded and handed Goody his new hat. He was already wearing his own replacement.

The directions Goody had been given to find the merchant brought them to a small farm on the outskirts of town. After knocking without answer on the door to the main building they headed to the barn behind the house, and after walking around it they came upon an older man next to a horse and cart. Something large covered in canvas was loaded onto the cart.

“Professor Austen,” Goody exclaimed, every bit the charming southern gentleman, with a smile and accent getting more pronounced whenever he stepped up the charm. Billy had never really found Goody’s fake charm all that charming. Goody being Goody was always just charming enough.

The man turned around, he had deep wrinkles in sunburnt skin and what hair was visible from underneath his white hat was grey and long enough to stick out in tufts. He had glasses resting far down on the tip of his nose and wore a waistcoat over a grey shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He eyed them with some surprise, brown eyes magnified slightly behind his spectacles.

Billy tuned out Goody’s explanation and proposal to the man, and surveyed the land around them. He couldn’t see any obvious sign of farming around them, and he wondered just what Austen did, and what a professor could be a merchant of.

“I am heading to San Francisco,” Austen said, glancing at Billy with some thinly veiled suspicion. Billy had the familiar but uncomfortable feeling that the man would have accepted Goody’s offer in a heartbeat had he been alone. However Austen’s eyes slid right down to Billy’s knives and then back to Goody. “But if you don’t mind sharing the cart with Dolly, I suppose I could drop you off in Stockton since it’s on the way.”

“Oh, that is splendid,” Goody said. He turned to Billy. “We’ll get horses in Stockton and from there it’s only a few hours ride to Sacramento, we’ll be there by dinner.”

“Well then, hop on,” Austen said. Goody walked ahead of Billy to the back of the cart, as such Billy could only see Goody’s expression change to something close to dismay when he looked at the back of the cart, which was shielded from the side. When Billy came around he could see what had soured Goody’s expression, and Billy had to bite back a laugh at the sight of the sheep.

“Did it have to be a sheep?” Goody whined, but quietly so that only Billy heard. “I don’t like sheep,” Goody muttered.

“I know,” Billy said, and then making sure Austen was paying attention elsewhere, leaned in close to whisper in Goody’s ear, “I’ll protect you.” He leaned back just in time was Austen turned to look at them.

“Don’t worry, she won’t bite or anythin’. Dolly is very good with faces, she can tell when someone is a friend.”

Billy climbed up first, and the sheep gave him a cursory look before going back to eating the straw at the bottom of the cart. Billy turned and watched Goody climb up.

Goody sat down on the straw-covered floor closest to the back, and Billy sat down next to him so that he was sitting between him and the sheep, which was ignoring them completely. 

He felt Goody’s hand grab his, their fingers interlacing as they held their hands in between them and out of view. Billy glanced over at Goody with a raised eyebrow, Goody was smiling slightly, the crooked smile with just one corner of his mouth, but he looked pleased. Billy shook his head slightly, looking away. He almost smiled himself, but he managed to curb that impulse, but he did feel a warmth curling in his chest, something fluttering in his stomach.

They were half an hour away from Sonora when Goody asked Austen what he did for a living.

“I’m an inventor,” Austen said. “I’ve invented a perpetual motion machine.”

Goody looked skeptical, but since Austen had the back of his head turned to them he couldn’t see that, and instead carried on talking about his machine, and his many other experiments. Billy mostly tuned him out.

He leaned his head back, closing his eyes and just relaxed. He wouldn’t have been able to doze off even if the cart didn’t manage to bounce over every hole in the ground.

Goody was still holding his hand, a warm and firm grip and it lead to him thinking about being allowed to touch Goody, of how Goody wanted to touch him, wanted Billy to touch him. 

Goody squeezed his hand and Billy looked over at him, warm blue eyes meeting his.

“What?” Billy whispered. Austen kept talking, oblivious. Goody leaned in close, hot breath on Billy’s neck and ear, making him shiver just a little.

“You’re smiling,” Goody whispered in Billy’s ear. “Thinking about something special?”

Billy looked into Goody’s eyes for a long moment. Behind them the sheep let out a soft ‘baaa’.

“Sheep,” Billy said, without a single inflection and his face a neutral mask.

He watched Goody circle through half a dozen expressions before he made a noise that sounded like a cut off laugh, and his face grew red, but the corners of his eyes crinkled. He squeezed Billy’s hand. With a delighted smile Billy squeezed back.

“You shouldn’t make me laugh right now,” Goody said, but it was so tinged with amusement that it was difficult to take the sentiment seriously.

Meanwhile Austen kept talking, seemingly oblivious to Billy and Goody in the back of his cart.

~

The journey to Stockton was uneventful, and hardly warranted the two-person protection, but Austen still thanked them and paid them handsomely.

“Felt more like we should have paid him,” Billy mumbled as they watched the professor drive away. Goody nodded before they started walking towards the horse pens.

There were three pens outside the stable, two of which had two larger groups of horses, but the third only had one sorrel horse grazing. They walked closer when Goody suddenly stopped with a surprised gasp.

“That’s Lynnie,” Goody exclaimed. Billy who had also stopped to look at Goody turned his head to look over at the fiery red horse, which had lifted its head to look at something on the other side of the fence.

“No,” Billy said slowly. 

At the same time the horse’s ears twitched before they were pinned flat against its neck, and the horse charged the fence, stopping just before hitting the wooden slats. A cat shot out of the bushes at the bottom of the fence, and ran like a bullet away from the horse.

“Yeah, okay, it’s her,” Billy said.

As they drew even closer, a tall gangly man came walking towards them. Billy focused on him since Goody seemed preoccupied with looking at Lynnie.

“Afternoon,” the man, who had a very thin black mustache on his upper lip, said pleasantly to Goody, but then had a look of confusion as Goody didn’t even acknowledge him. Billy bit back a sigh.

“That’s my horse,” Goody said and pointed at Lynnie. She was grazing again, tail flicking angrily to chase away the flies that tried to land on her.

The man instantly looked indignant.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” the man said. Billy looked over at the sign above the stable which said, “Jones”. Goody meanwhile had started walking straight for Lynnie’s pen. Billy and the man who Billy presumed was named Jones, followed.

“We had our horses stolen,” Billy said. Jones stopped and turned to him, so Billy stopped a well. Goody had almost reached the fence, his stride having gotten longer.

“Well all I know is that two men came by and wanted to sell me two horses a few days ago,” Jones said. “Had I known what a monster this one was going to turn out to be I would have refused them.” The man wore his dark blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up and Billy noticed the angry red bite mark on his arm.

Goody was leaning on the fence trying to get Lynnie’s attention, she was ignoring them all.

“That means he’s got your horse too Billy,” said Goody, delight evident in his voice, and Billy found it hard not to smile at him. Especially when he turned to look over his shoulder and smiled at Billy.

“Um,” Jones started, shifting from foot to foot. “She was kind of an easy sell, so I’ve already sold her on,” he said. Billy was unsurprised.

“You hear that Goody,” Billy shouted to Goody, who was once more focused on getting Lynnie to pay attention to him. “Unlike your horse mine was a good horse. People probably lined up and fought each other for the privilege of buying her.”

Jones looked like he didn’t know how to react to this.

“I tried selling that one too, but she’s a mean one,” Jones said with a shake of his head. “I was actually about to have her put down.”

“What?” Goody exclaimed and turned around, looking absolutely appalled. Billy would have to intervene quickly.

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” Billy said. “But we are going to take her off your hands.”

He looked over at the other horses. “And I’m going to need a horse as well. Something steady to balance her out.”

“I’ve got just the one,” Jones said, confidence slipping back into his voice and posture. “Ten year old gelding, used to be ridden by this little old lady.” Billy doubted that statement strongly. Over by the pen Goody must have finally gotten Lynnie’s attention, because he could hear him exclaim:

“Ow! Don’t bite me, I’m saving you.” His voice turned admonishing. “You should be more grateful.”

“I’m going to have to look him over first,” Billy said.

Jones showed him a very ordinary looking bay horse with kind eyes and after Billy had inspected its hooves, legs, and back – deeming it to be in good condition – he also had a look at its teeth to make sure it wasn’t much older than the man claimed it to be. The haggling over price started. Though BIlly knew at some point he was going to have to just agree to a price, because Goody was already in the process of putting the tack on Lynnie.

“You and I both know she’s not worth that much,” Billy said, after Jones quoted a frankly ridiculous sum of money. “You admitted to me minutes ago that you were about to have her ki-” he stopped himself, worried Goody might overhear. “Put down. You should be happy I’m paying you at all for her.”

Jones ended up grumbling a bit, but soon Billy had purchased both horses and tack.

“So what’s your new horse called?” Goody asked when they rode out of town.

“BH,” Billy said. Goody gave him an unimpressed look. Billy didn’t even try to hide his grin.

“You’re hopeless,” Goody said, but his expression turned amused. “Same meaning?”

“Same meaning,” Billy said. “I was told the men who sold them were going to Sacramento so that does seem like the best place to start.”

Goody nodded.

“Alright then, let’s go.”

They increased their speed a bit, letting the horses trot and Billy glanced over at Goody who was smiling, which made Billy smile as well. The plain in front of them stretched out flat and even for miles.

“Want to race?” Billy asked.

Goody turned his head to look at him, surprised at first and then his smile widened.

“Sure,” Goody said. “One,” Goody started counting. “Two...”

Billy smacked his lips, squeezing his legs against the sides of his horse and they started galloping.

“You cheat!” Goody shouted after him, and Billy laughed, chest almost bursting with joy. Behind him Lynnie came thundering after him. Billy let his horse stretch out for real, eating up ground underneath them as they sped forward. Next to them a dragon swooped down and flew next to them for a couple of lengths before speeding up high into the air again. Wind blowing in his face, and this was probably the closest someone could ever get to flying Billy thought. His heart beating fast, and that exhilarating feeling in his chest only growing.

Lynnie, being almost half of Billy’s horse’s age started to gain, her head thrust forward, ears pinned back to her neck, and they came up side by side. Billy looked over at Goody who was grinning at him. Billy laughed and Goody laughed as well, before Billy looked forward again, and he could only hear Goody urging Lynnie on, and Billy did the same to BH. They flew forward across the plain, hoofbeats mingling with the sound of his own heart beating, and stomach and chest bubbling with joy.

~ ~ ~


	3. Chapter 3

It was late in the afternoon still on the road to Sacramento, their horses moving at a fast walking pace, when Goody asked, “What did you have in mind? For what to do with Jacobs?”

Billy didn’t answer, glancing away from Goody and his eyes landing to his right where on a rock a lone black dragon was eating a dead animal. Unlike smaller dragons it wasn’t going to abandon its feast just because someone came riding a little close, it just went on gorging itself. High above, a flock of smaller dragons flew in a circle, waiting and hoping the black dragon would leave some when it left.

“I won’t have you kill for me,” Goody said. Now Billy did glance at him, raising an eyebrow.

“I have killed for you,” Billy stated, matter of fact.

“Firing back when someone’s shooting at us is one thing, assassination is something else entirely.”

Billy frowned and looked away. Something cold started gnawing in his stomach.

“I think I would know the difference better than you,” Billy said, tone short and some ugly emotion creeping into his voice even though he tried going for neutral.

“Fuck, I didn’t— I’m sorry. I didn’t think...”

Billy didn’t look at him. He sounded so sincere but Billy doubted Goody even knew what was actually upsetting him, and Billy didn’t want to explain, didn’t want to ask the question that suddenly weighed heavily in his mind.

“Billy,” Goody said, his voice concerned and he could feel Goody’s eyes on him.

Billy closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He felt his temper rising with his annoyance and frustration. Worry warring with his want to reassure Goody. He wanted to just move on, not open up something, not wanting to run the risk of tripping over something that could ruin them, not so close to their relationship shifting and evolving. He thought of Goody naked and spread out in front of him on the bed. The warmth and happiness in his chest that had threatened to consume him. However, if this unspoken worry and hurt was left to fester, then what was the point? 

“What did you mean it’s something else?” Billy asked. “You think it’s someone sneaking around in the dark stabbing people in the back? And you judge it because you don’t think it’s fair? Because that’s what I _did_.”

He turned and looked at Goody. “I told you that. I told you _all about it_.”

Because Goody had told Billy about the war, had told Billy about fighting and killing; and his regrets. So Billy had shared of himself in return, because Goody had said they were partners, and Goody had always insisted they were _equals_ – and even though Billy sometimes in the dark corners of his mind felt that they were never going to be completely equal, being from such different backgrounds, having led such different lives – the fact that Goody always did work so hard for them to be equal, had always made Billy want to put in the effort as well. Which was why he had shared the stories from his past, to try and make it easier for Goody to understand, and he had said that he understood, that he didn’t judge him. Now Billy was starting to doubt.

“You said you understood,” Billy said not looking away, instead kept eye contact with Goody. “You said you understood. But if you...” he faltered a little, and wanted to berate himself for his voice not being completely steady.

“Am I just an exception? I’ve done things you find despicable, but you excuse them because it’s me?”

“Billy…”

Billy bit his bottom lip, breaking eye contact and closing his eyes for a moment, he swallowed hard. If Goody said he was sorry Billy didn’t know what he’d have to do. Maybe he’d have to ride away, not that he wanted to. He knew Goody would be honest with him, he always was, but he also knew Goody would be inclined to say what he thought Billy would want to hear rather than what he might actually need to hear.

He opened his eyes again and looked at Goody’s face, so open, so earnest, so concerned, and Billy’s heart hurt because he didn’t think he could ever ride away from this man.

“You didn’t want to do it again,” Goody said, which was not even close to anything Billy had thought he would say, and he couldn’t quite hide his surprise. But Goody was already continuing, “I never want to be the reason you have to do something you no longer wish to do.”

He rode closer to Billy grabbing the reins and they stopped.

“I don’t judge you,” Goody said. “I don’t harbor some deep resentment for any of the things you have done, not just because it is you, but how can I judge someone else’s actions when I have done the same and more in the battlefield?” He reached out and cupped Billy’s cheek in his palm, and Billy almost leaned into it. “And yes, it’s not exactly the same thing, but it is still not my place to judge.”

Billy started to relax and lean into Goody’s hand. Warm and reassuring on his cheek.

“Who am I to stop you if you truly believe Jacobs is a threat and you feel you need to do what you must. I will support you, but I was merely thinking instead of you having to relive a past that haunts you, we could think of something else.”

Billy turned his head and pressed a kiss to Goody’s palm.

“I am sorry for doubting you,” Billy murmured into Goody’s skin.

“No apologies needed, mon cher,” Goody said with a small smile.

At that moment Lynnie decided that she’d had enough of standing still and started walking again, ignoring the way Goody pulled at her reins with his free hand, his finger tips brushing across Billy’s cheek. He turned and looked back at Billy since BH was a bit slow to follow.

“I do apologize for my horse,” Goody said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Billy muttered and shook his head. “Should have known not to have a serious moment while on horseback”

“Are we good?” Goody asked once Billy was next to him and he didn’t have to twist quite as much to look at him, a worried frown creasing his forehead.

Billy paused, because Goody would appreciate it more if he took the time to consider it before answering.

The cold knot in his stomach had started to unravel and Goody’s words _had_ reassured him.

“We’re good,” Billy said with a nod. Goody’s frown slowly smoothed out, but he stayed subdued for the next hour. He didn’t seem worried, didn’t glance over at Billy over and over again as was his habit when he was anxious about something. Instead he was just silent, looking like he was deep in thought. Billy let him be, and rode a little bit in advance, scouting ahead.

 

He waited on a hill for Goody to catch up, and when they rode side by side again Billy said, “It would never be a fair fight though.”

“Huh?” Goody looked up at him, looking confused.

“Even if they saw me coming,” Billy said. “It still wouldn’t be a fair fight for them.”

This got him a surprised bark of laughter from Goody, and he looked over at Billy with a broad grin and glittering eyes.

“You are a cocky son of a bitch, Billy Rocks. That’s what I love about you,” Goody said, still chuckling slightly and eyes shining with mirth and fondness.

‘Love’, Billy thought, he hadn’t realized, but perhaps he should have. Out loud however he said, “I thought it was my hair you loved me for?”

This got him another chuckle.

“Oh, of course your hair,” Goody said. “It’s 50 percent your hair, 50 percent your cockiness, and 50 percent those little dimples you try to hide by never smiling.”

Billy felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, lips twitching, but he did his best to suppress it.

“There you go again holding them back,” Goody said, voice accusatory but amused. “Release them.”

“You are terrible at math,” Billy said, and gave in to the smile which made Goody crow and smile so brightly he could have rivaled the sun.

~

They reached Sacramento that evening. The large city bustling with people and horses even as the sun was setting. Several stage coaches loaded with goods – mainly money and gold, Billy assumed – passed by them, heading for the city, drawn at full speed by sweaty, tired-looking horses, while Billy and Goody approached the city at a more sedate pace past the farmlands surrounding the growing city.

The city had been large the first time Billy had come through and it had grown even more since. Goody and Billy had made their way across almost the entire city before they found a boarding house with an empty room, and a place to stable their horses. They found both those things near Sacramento’s Chinatown, and Billy could guess why there were fewer people staying there.

The boarding house looked like it was falling apart, walking through the hallway to their room they walked past a whole section of wall that was just open to the world on the outside, as the two rooms had burned down and no one had repaired them yet, just put in beams to support the ceiling and the second floor above. To Billy’s eyes it looked like the fire must have happened fairly recently.

Their room was cramped, and while it was necessary for appearances sake, it seemed like a waste to have two beds crammed inside the small room. It did have a dresser with a wash basin and pitcher filled with water warmed by the sun which had been shining through the window during the day. It was enough for them to wash up with, and once they were down to their undergarments and clean, Goody pulled Billy down ontop of himself on one of the beds, which made a loud creaking sound from their combined weight.

Next door Billy quite clearly heard someone walk across the floorboards.

“The walls are paper thin, Goody,” Billy protested, but at the same time he burrowed even closer to Goody’s warmth. Goody was mouthing at Billy’s collarbone, the top three buttons unbuttoned, giving him perfect access.

“We’ll just have to be quiet,” Goody murmured and rolled them over, so that he ended up on top. The bed creaked even louder and shook like it was about to fall apart, the metal legs grinding against the floorboards.

Billy let out a chuckle, and Goody dropped his head to Billy’s chest with a frustrated groan.

“Or we just lie completely still all night,” Billy said.

They rearranged themselves as carefully as possible on the narrow bed so that they were lying on their sides face to face.

“This is familiar,” Billy murmured.

“Softer than the ground,” Goody said.

“Not by much,” Billy said.

Goody leaned in and kissed him, Billy met him eagerly and they lay there trading lazy wet kisses until they started drifting off into sleep.

~

Billy woke first, tangled up in Goody he lay there for a moment just enjoying it before he got out of bed. Deciding to let Goody sleep a little longer he walked over to the table carrying his knives and supplies. They’d been out in the wet a lot lately, and Billy hadn’t really taken care of them, too distracted by other things.

He looked out the window the table stood next to, through it he had a decent enough view of the Sacramento river only half obscured by another building. He watched the river boats go by for a moment before he started working on cleaning and sharpening the knives. He knew from experience that if Goody was actually sleeping it took more than the sound of Billy’s knives against the whetstone to wake him up.

Having finished half the knives he glanced over at Goody, still asleep lying on his side, one arm underneath his head and mouth slightly open. So relaxed in sleep and Billy’s heart swelled with affection. He thought about how Goody had used the word ‘love’ the previous day. He hadn’t really reflected much on the change in their relationship because it had felt so natural, as if they had only taken the obvious next step that their whole relationship had been leading up to.

He tried turning back to the knives but soon glanced over at Goody again. The man made a soft noise somewhere between sleep and wake then, Billy thought. They knew each other so well from so long on the road together and perhaps love had always been just a short surprisingly easy step away for them.

~

“Bank first or sheriff’s office?” Goody asked later that morning when they were walking out the door of the boarding house.

“Sheriff’s office?” Billy asked, as they turned away from the river and started climbing a hill.

“Yes if Jacobs’s been through here that’s the most likely place he would have visited looking for a new bounty.” Goody paused, and then in a light tone continued, “On the other hand, if he wasn’t making things up and I am falsely accused of crimes I haven’t committed and a wanted man, it would be a terrible place for me to show my face.”

“You don’t believe he made it up?” Billy asked.

“Oh no, cher,” Goody said, reassuring. “I definitely trust you to have a healthy amount of distrust of white men that I could hardly match, how could I not trust your feeling on this?”

It was quite easy to not trust him, Billy thought. However he already knew Goody trusted him, he’d proven that more than once.

“Let’s wire for money first,” Billy said instead of continuing. Goody nodded.

They crossed two more dirt-packed streets before reaching a street paved with cobblestone. When Billy had first arrived in America he hadn’t seen cobblestones outside San Francisco. The sound of their footsteps on rocks reminded him a little of walking on cliffs back in the forest, but their surroundings were of course completely different. Instead of trees towering over them there were tall buildings, the street crowded with people, the air filled with dozens of voices. A few people turned their heads, giving Billy suspicious looks, but he tried his best not to pay them any mind, but just because he was used to it didn’t mean it didn’t rankle him, feeding an anger he could only release during competitions.

They found the Western Union office, where Billy stood next to Goody and tried not to look too menacing, which was probably a lost cause as he was wearing his knife belt with the handles and sheaths shining newly polished and oiled, as well as the guns. He stayed silent while Goody conducted their business and eventually they left. Goody holding a large amount of cash, which as soon as they were outside Goody stopped to hand Billy half of it without comment.

Billy had used to keep all his money in a square metal box painted in red with little white dots on it which had once used to hold cookies, which he had wrapped up in a thick sweater in one of his saddlebags. In the beginning of his and Goody’s partnership, before Billy fully trusted Goody, when he wasn’t sure of the man’s character, whenever Goody split up their earnings – always fifty-fifty – Billy had put his share in the box when Goody wasn’t looking. Goody had offered to keep some of it in his account in case Billy wanted to save some.

However, when Goody made the offer, Billy had just given him a look like what he had suggested was completely insane. Goody had later, after Billy explained what he had thought of Goody’s suggestion at the time, in turn told Billy that Billy’s expressions weren’t always as expressive as he seemed to think, and that for the first month he had been convinced that every time Billy looked at him he was secretly thinking Goody was an idiot. So, Billy had carried his own money for at least a year. Even though he had his own expenses – he had started keeping them both in opium much, much sooner – the bills had started stacking up in the box. In the end he agreed to the joint account both because he trusted Goody’s person, and because he was earning a lot more when riding with Goody than he had done ever before, and he could actually see a point in saving for the first time. He had saved the box and put it in storage – also shared with Goody – in San Francisco. He was quite glad he had left it there considering Jacobs had caused them to lose their possessions.

Goody always brought Billy along when he withdrew money, and even if they needed it for shared expenses he would always give half of it to Billy. He wondered sometimes why he had taken so long to trust the man. On the other hand, while Billy had the codes and necessary documentation for the account, he feared that if he one day had to withdraw money he would be refused.

“Alright,” Goody said once they both had pocketed their money. “Let’s go talk to the sheriff and find out if he’s seen Jacobs recently.”

Billy fell in step with Goody and they walked down the street without spotting any obvious signs of the sheriff’s office, neither of them actually remembering where it was located. Goody walked up to a couple of ladies walking down the street in the opposite direction, his most charming smile on his lips when he greeted them. Someone –  
he didn’t remember who or when, perhaps one of the girls working in some brothel they’d stayed in when they were in a town too small for a boarding house – had once told Billy that Goody’s smile could melt a rock and talk brick walls into doing his bidding. Billy watched him now, charming the ladies with a smile that never really reached his eyes, not until he turned and looked at Billy. Suddenly there were crows feet at the corner of his suddenly much brighter eyes, smile widening and Billy’s heart jumped. He didn’t think he could have ever resisted the man, not when he smiled at Billy like that.

They found the sheriff’s office eventually and were met by the sheriff when they walked inside who exclaimed, “Goodnight Robicheaux,” as soon as they entered, which could either be good or bad.

“Sheriff,” Goody said, tipping his hat, tone easy, but Billy tensed up and he could tell Goody had as well.

“You don’t remember me,” said the man, though he didn’t sound disappointed or accusatory just stating a fact. “Name’s Carlton Boam.” He reached out a hand and Goody took it. Relaxing minutely, though there was still something squared off to his jaw, and Billy was still tense, still ready for anything. This despite the sheriff’s whole demeanor screaming relaxed and friendly.

“Well, a pleasure meeting you,” Goody said, fake charming smile back in full force. “This here’s my associate Billy Rocks.” Goody nodded in Billy’s direction. Billy nodded to the man who only glanced quickly at Billy and then back to Goody again.

“We met once before,” Boam said. “Back when I was a deputy. You brought in that horse thief, you and—” he paused and glanced at Billy a frown on his face, “you and Sam Chisolm captured.”

This had happened before, or something similar at any rate. Billy had never met Sam Chisolm, but he had gathered that the people who knew Goody as Goodnight Robicheaux, the confederate soldier, didn’t expect to see Goody in the company of Sam Chisolm, and Billy could only imagine what they must be thinking seeing him call Billy his associate.

Goody had noticed the look the sheriff shot Billy, he could tell from the way Goody’s stance changed slightly into a more defensive one, and he took a step to the side so that he had one leg in front of Billy. He still carried on talking though, voice politely pleasant and upbeat.

“Ah yes, the horse thief. He’d been all over California, I remember. Though I can’t for the life of me remember his name.”

“I believe his name was Fox,” the sheriff said.

“Ah, yes. Mister Fox. Not nearly as sly as his namesake in the end,” Goody said. “Anyway we just so happen to be here on business, not strictly bounty hunting business, but we are looking for James Jacobs. I have some questions for him,” Goody said. Billy swallowed a snort.

“James Jacobs? He was here a few days ago.”

“You don’t say,” Goody said, with a very convincing tone of surprise. “You mean I just missed him? How unfortunate. You don’t by any chance know where he was going?”

“All I know is he looked over the more recent warrants,” he waved to the wall with all of the warrants pinned to it. “Saw the one for a Samuel Bly and immediately said he was going after him and left.”

“Samuel Bly,” Goody said. “What he wanted for?”

“Suspect of a bunch of stagecoach robberies, never tied directly to one, until he became the chief suspect in a recent one. The first suspect – some Chinaman – was released because the accusation was proved to be false.” Billy could guess from the way his voice changed and the way he did his best not to look at Billy and yet ended up glancing at him, what he really thought of that.

“I recently proved a Mister Rhee had been falsely accused of a robbery,” Goody said, musing, his tone light but there was steel in his voice. Boam’s eyes widened slightly and he scraped a toe against the floor.

“Um.”

“You don’t happen to know where this Bly is supposed to be operating?” Goody asked.

“Near lake Tahoe.”

“Well, thank you. You’ve been most helpful.”

Goody half turned to Billy and nodded to him, tilting his head towards the door. Billy frowned but he walked first towards the door, Goody so close on his heels he almost stepped on Billy’s boots.

“I got he was suspicious towards me, but I hardly think he would have done anything just because I had my back turned to him,” Billy said once they were outside in the street again. Goody didn’t answer, so Billy turned and looked at him and saw the contemplative look on the man’s face.

“Goody?” Billy asked. Goody startled out of his thoughts and he looked at Billy.

“I suppose Jacobs could just be wanting to capture the real culprit,” Goody mumbled. “But—” he paused and frowned. “No, it’s probably nothing.”

“What?” Billy asked.

“I’m not sure yet, but I think I definitely need to catch up with the man. I have several burning questions I need him to answer.”

“We’re going to need supplies,” Billy said. “How about I head to Chinatown, and you get the rest?”

“We could go together,” Goody suggested.

Billy gave him a crooked smile.

“I know I said we should go where the other one goes, but as long as we’re in the same city I think we can still split up.”

Goody hesitated.

“I don’t really want to, to be honest,” Goody said, and Billy had a hard time not smiling broader, warmth in his chest and something fluttering in his stomach.

“It’ll be fine, faster this way.”

“Alright, meet up at the boarding house,” Goody conceded. He looked at Billy in silence.

“You gonna stare forever or actually leave?” Billy asked, amused.

“I was waiting for you to leave first,” Goody said.

“Oh, and here I was thinking you should leave first.”

“And why’s that?” Goody asked. Billy licked his lips, and then leaned up to whisper in Goody’s ear.

“Because I would very much like to watch your ass in those tight trousers you are wearing as you walk away.”

Billy leaned back again, smiling, and enjoying the wave of delight at the light flush on Goody’s cheeks.

“Well,” Goody started, voice croaking. “How could I possibly deny you that privilege,” he said composing himself. He tipped his hat to Billy, and turned around slowly and started walking away. Billy watched, trying to be as subtle about it as possible. When Goody was out of sight Billy turned and headed towards Sacramento’s Chinatown.

~

Billy finished up in Chinatown quickly, finally restocking their supply of opium as well as buying a few other things, before he met up with Goody again. They rode out of Sacramento a few hours past noon. Their horses kept a good pace in the beginning of their journey, as the sun kept going in and out of the light cloud cover in the sky. They slowed down to a walk as the road started climbing and in the distance were tree covered mountains. Billy spotted a lizard slumbering on a rock a short distance away, he was idly watching it when a shadow fell over it and the lizard started scurrying off, but it wasn’t fast enough, a second later a dark grey dragon swooped down from above capturing the lizard and flying off with it.

In the evening they made camp high up in the foothills of the mountain range, with a cliffside at their backs. They easily went back to the rhythm they had had for years of working together to make camp, but with the addition of Goody now and then stealing kisses from Billy, which he was more than happy to indulge in.

That night in the light from the fire after they were full of food and drink, and pleasantly high, Goody pulled out a bottle of oil and in the still warm air they stripped down.

By the time Billy pushed his cock inside Goody’s still tight despite all the stretching, hot, slicked passage he had hickies all over the insides of his thighs, his legs spread wide around Billy’s waist. The oil Billy had used generously aiding his slow slide inside and they both groaned loudly as Billy bottomed out.

Billy held still for a moment, before he started to pull out slowly, and Goody whined. Billy stopped with the head of his cock still held tight inside of Goody. He rearranged Goody’s legs, putting them over his shoulder so that his heels hung down his back. Then he pushed inside once more, the change in angle made Goody moan even louder and tremble. Billy leaned forward, hands landing on Goody’s shoulders, so that he was looking down at Goody’s face.

Flames flickered beside them and inside Billy felt like he was burning. His chest too tight for all that he felt. The fire light making Goody glow beneath Billy. 

Billy’s hair had come lose and now fell down besides his face, but Goody lifted his hands, and gathered up Billy’s hair, tangling his fingers in it, tugging lightly at the strands. He put his hands on both sides of Billy’s head, cupping it between his palms.

Billy leaned in for a kiss, a lot of tongue and spit-slick lips. He pulled out and thrust back in again, slow like honey, the oil making the slide as slick as silk and Billy moaned into Goody’s mouth.

Billy lifted his head again, opening his eyes and watching Goody chase after his lips, so he leaned down again pressing a soft kiss to his red bottom lip. He wanted to stay inside of Goody forever, never wanting to let him go.

“Billy,” Goody whispered, his voice wrecked with lust, and Billy’s hips jerked, a little bit of his tight control slipping.

Goody’s head dropped back down to the ground. He opened his eyes which shone in the light from the fire, and Billy had never seen more beautiful eyes in his life. Goody’s lips red and puffy from kissing, and there was a flush on his cheeks.

“Beaut—” Billy started to say at the same time as Goody started to say:

“Gorge—”

They both chuckled, and Goody gave him a beatific smile. Billy’s heart swelled and he felt this overwhelming wave of fondness for this man. This beautiful man who made Billy laugh, who brought Billy so much joy.

He pulled back and thrust inside, still moving slowly, Goody let out another moan. Leaning on one hand Billy brushed the back of his fingers against Goody’s cheek. Chest bursting with feelings he had yet to acknowledge to himself, and words on the tip of hins tongue which he wasn’t sure he could voice out loud just yet.

Goody met every one of Billy’s thrusts, pushing back, and they moved together, never breaking eye contact. Goody’s moans were rising in volume and he got louder and louder as Billy started to move faster.

“Billy. Billy, please,” Goody gasped, tugging hard on Billy’s hair.

Billy reached down with his free hand, grasping Goody’s hard cock, the skin smooth and slick from precome, he started stroking. Goody hissing out a, “Yes.”

He thrust harder, bending Goody in half, the new angle hitting Goody’s prostate on every stroke. Goody let go of Billy’s hair and placed his hands on Billy’s shoulder blades instead, nails digging into the skin, and Billy gasped. He let go of his own control, hips thrusting harder faster, wanting more, taking more. Everything was the tight heat around his cock, the fire burning in his stomach and the loud sounds of pleasure Goody was making, and Billy wanted more.

“Yes,” Goody gasped. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Right there, oh Lord just keep this up. Yes. Fuck!”

Goody closed his eyes and came with a shout, hot seed splashing on both their bellies and covering Billy’s fingers. Goody dug his fingers even harder into Billy’s skin, and probably leaving marks. Billy’s cock was squeezed tighter and he moaned but continued fucking him through his shuddering orgasm, but slowing down once more.

“Goody,” Billy moaned.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” Goody moaned, and then whined because Billy was still stroking his cock. “Love you,” Goody gasped, finally opening his eyes again, and when he caught Billy’s eyes, Billy was hit by how open and earnest they were, and the raw emotion made something explode inside of Billy as he started coming. Hips pumping, seed spurting inside of Goody. 

Billy continued thrusting as his cock slowly softened.

“Love you,” Goody murmured. “Love you.” His hands back in Billy’s hair, and Billy cupped Goody’s head between his own hands, leaning in for a long slow kiss, swallowing the rest of Goody’s ‘love you’s and wanting to prolong their contact and the warmth spreading inside of Billy.

He slipped out accidentally, and dropped down on Goody, lying his head on Goody’s chest, breathing hard and listening to Goody’s heartbeat which was slowing down.

“You’re amazing,” Goody whispered and Billy smiled.

“Not so bad yourself,” Billy murmured against Goody’s skin, sticking out his tongue and licking a stripe on his chest, tasting the salt of his sweat. He was going to move in a moment. Get something to clean them up, make sure he hadn’t hurt Goody. But just for now he needed to lie here and listen to Goody breathe, and bask in the warm afterglow.

~

“Sore?” Billy asked the next morning when Goody pulled a face as he swung his leg across Lynnie’s back. Billy had checked him for tears when he cleaned him up and not seen any, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be sore anyway. Goody turned his head to Billy, and smiled in that way of his where only one corner of his mouth lifted into a crooked smile.

“It was most certainly worth it, mon cher,” Goody said. Billy’s chest had something warm curling inside of it, and he smiled back.

They rode into Tahoe later that day and went to the sheriff’s office first thing. There Goody asked for more information on Bly, as well as inquired about Jacobs’s whereabouts. The deputy they talked to, since the sheriff was out, told them that as far as he knew Jacobs hadn’t even been to Tahoe.

He could tell a little more about Bly who apparently had a rather large operation of robbing stagecoaches, as well as extortion, possible murders, kidnappings, and an old lady claimed that he had pretended to be her long lost son and then stolen all her life savings.

“We just haven’t been able to pin anything concrete besides unsubstantiated rumors, to him,” deputy Jones said. “There’s also the suspicions that he is paying off members of the law enforcement. He’s been slipping out of a lot of charges using other people as fall guys. Sometimes framing people. But now the marshals have finally been able to put together enough evidence to take down not only him but his whole gang. We just have to capture him, which has been proving difficult.”

“Any idea roughly where he might be?” Goody asked.

“The Sierra Nevadas,” Jones said, and nodded sympathetically at the dismayed look on Goody’s face.

They left after telling the deputy they were going to at least make an attempt at finding Bly.

“What I am wondering,” Goody mused when they left the office, “is how Jacobs is involved in all of this?”

“Do you think Bly is paying him?”

“Maybe,” Goody said. “Me exposing one framing which leads to the possibility of Bly and his whole whole gang being exposed and taken down, that I can understand wanting to take revenge for.”

He glanced at Billy as they walked down the road to the boarding house.

“If he is an accomplice to Bly he might have gone straight for Bly’s hide out rather than stopping in Tahoe.”

“Now we just have to find them,” Billy said.

“Yes.” He grinned at Billy. “Quite a nice sum of money offered as a reward for him though.”

Billy pointed to the mountains in the distance, barely visible in the enveloping darkness.

“More forest.”

“We ain’t gonna let that stop us are we?”

“Guess not,” Billy said and smiled because Goody was smiling.

They stayed one night in Tahoe, before they, armed with a map Goody had borrowed from the sheriff’s office, set out towards the Sierra Nevadas.

~

After many days of seeing nothing and nothing happening, Billy woke early in the morning, the early light on the horizon the only source of light as he went off on foot to check the traps they had made the night before. They didn’t really need to hunt, not now when they had supplies with them into the forest, but some fresh grilled meat in addition to the dried beef jerky, or the grains for oatmeal or the beans, was always welcome.

He had just liberated a hare from a snare, when he heard a loud piercing neigh breaking the silence that had rested over the forest. Billy’s head snapped in the direction of their camp, a nearby tree rustled as a flock of dragons took off. There was another neigh, cut off by the unmistakeable sound of a gunshot. A cold shiver went down Billy’s spine. He dropped the hare and ran towards their camp.

He noticed things in brief glimpses before he burst out into the clearing they had made their camp in. Goody was on his feet, surrounded by four strangers, all armed and aiming at Goody, two of them on horseback and two on the ground. Goody had his rifle, but he was holding it as a club, and not aiming at anyone in particular. A fifth man was stumbling back, holding his head. A sixth man was pointing a gun at Lynnie, Billy’s horse lay dead on the ground.

“Just grab him,” the sixth man barked. “I’ll deal with his beast—”

Billy had drawn and shot him in the head before he finished speaking. He burst into the clearing properly at the same time as the man dropped to the ground with a loud thump.

“Grab him already!” one of the riders shouted. Billy raised his gun and took aim, but the man who had been clutching his head came rushing towards Billy. He had to shoot him first. Meanwhile, one of the men on the ground hit Goody over the head with the butt of his gun. Goody went down on his knees with a grunt.

“Goody!”

The two men on the ground moved quickly, grabbing Goody roughly, they tossed him up on one of the horses, just in front of the saddle horn. Billy fired at the rider, but he and his horse were already moving, and he missed.

“Goody!” Billy shouted again as he was carried off on a galloping horse.

“Billy!” Goody shouted back.

Billy shot the two men on the ground, while the last rider took off after the first one.

Lynnie neighed. Billy hurried up to her, grabbing her reins before she could take off.

“I know you are less than thrilled about me, and I’m not your biggest fan, but please behave for this,” Billy said, frantic, his heart beating fast. He jumped up on her back and they took off after them.

They rode at a speed which was irresponsible considering they were riding across uneven forest floor, with no path in sight. Fortunately there were no rocks, just grass and bushes, but they just had to hope the horses didn’t stumble over the tree roots.

All of a sudden the trees opened up and the horses in front of BIlly took a sharp left turn out onto a road, wide enough for a carriage.

Their speed increased, which meant Billy was starting to catch up to them, having the faster horse. The man at the back turned around in his saddle, Billy saw him do it and could guess what was about to happen. He ducked just in time when the man shot, Billy pressing his nose against Lynnie’s mane for a second.

He straightened up again, pulling his own gun and fired, but the shot missed by an inch because the man had already twisted away.

Billy spat out a frustrated curse in Korean.

He was about to fire again when a hail of bullets came flying towards him from the trees on the side of the road. With a surprised shout Billy pulled Lynnie’s reins hard. She responded by coming to an abrupt stop and rearing up on her hind legs, blowing air through her nostrils in a loud snort.

Billy turned her around and they started running away the way they had come. Billy heard another gunshot behind them, Lynnie let out a shrill sound, bucked and kicked out her hind legs. Billy only just managed to stay in the saddle. Lynnie took the bit between her teeth and started rushing uncontrollably down the road. Billy had a white knuckled grip on the saddle horn and reins, but there was no stopping her. He could only be grateful the road was level for now and that the reins were mostly gathered up so as to not get tangled in her legs as he fervently prayed she wouldn’t stumble.

Wind whipped at his face, making his eyes tear up. All he could hear was the thundering of hooves and the rushing of wind. In his chest, his heart was racing almost as fast as Lynnie was running.

Eventually he could feel Lynnie falter a bit. He tugged at the reins, firmly but didn’t pull with all his strength. He had to do it a few times while making soothing noises, and soon enough she started to slow down.

A few moments later he got her to stop, her legs trembling, and she lowered her head breathing hard. He patted her sweaty neck, the fur a darker shade of red.

“Good girl,” Billy murmured. “Good girl.”

He slid off her back and down to the ground. Letting her catch her breath, he checked her legs and then going over the rest of her body found a spot of blood on her hindquarters where a bullet had grazed her.

Once he had made sure nothing worse had happened to her, he started taking in their surroundings. The road here was narrower, trees growing closer, a wagon could still pass but it would be a tighter fit. They had stopped just before a bend in the road, and Billy couldn’t see what was on the other side of it.

He picked up one of the reins he had dropped to the ground and started walking. Lynnie followed him reluctantly and he eyed her legs, but she wasn’t limping. They walked around the bend, coming out in between two cliffs and the road disappeared. Though not really. Someone had covered it with bushes and branches. Further ahead, taller bushes grew and obscured the view slightly. From the other side of the bushes it wouldn’t be entirely obvious that there was a road on the other side of the bend.

Billy pulled out the map from one of the saddlebags and inspected it. Based on where they had been the previous days, which was marked out on the map, and where they had made camp the night before. Billy found a road marked on the map, a mile from their camp, and he guessed that it might even be located on the other side of the bushes.

He put away the map and turned around, walking with Lynnie following him, he picked his way through the forest to their camp.

~

Dragons of all kinds had gathered on the corpse of Billy’s horse, as well as started eating the men. Billy made a face. He fired his gun in the air and shouted at the dragons, it was enough for them to flap up into the air and hide out in the trees surrounding the clearing, but they hissed angrily at him. Billy ignored them and started gathering their saddlebags as well as scattered belongings. He sheathed Goody’s rifle on Lynnie’s saddle again, and tossed one of the bags on her back, he didn’t want to load her up with too much and carried the rest himself.

He glanced at his dead horse, it was such a needless waste. He understood why they had done it, to make it more difficult for Billy to pursue, but still.

Sighing he picked up Lynnie’s reins and started walking again. He’d barely left the clearing when a black dragon flapped down to the horse cadaver.

A couple of yards from where they had made their camp ran a mountain stream, which they had gathered water from the night before. Billy dropped the bags he was carrying on the ground, let Lynnie drink a few mouthfuls before pulling her away and tying her to a tree. He needed to keep her close at hand, and didn’t want her grazing and gorging herself so soon after a hard ride. Instead he gave her a handful of oaths and glared at her when she bit his hand.

He crouched down by the river and cupped his hands in the cold water. He drank and splashed the water over his face, running his hand through his hair and down to his sweaty neck. He was trying and failing to ignore the heavy clump of worry in his stomach. He had to save Goody. As soon as possible, but charging in didn’t seem like a plan, certainly not a plan with a chance of success.

He looked over at Lynnie who was eyeing him.

“I am getting him back,” Billy said, conviction in his voice, but not entirely sure he could get him back alive. The more time wasted the greater chance he would get there too late. The thought of Goody hurt in any way made his stomach turn, a deep ache inside of him as his chest constricted.

If they were more interested in punishing him instead of killing him outright, that would buy Billy some time, and he tried to ignore the how guilty it made him feel to hope that they were beating up Goody first.

Lynnie meanwhile snorted and shook her head.

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Billy thought, hearing Goody’s voice in his mind, and his heart twisted.

Billy left Lynnie where she was tied up for the moment, and started walking. 

He made his way through the forest and he was definitely telling Goody that they were going to stay away from forests from now on. Keeping track of where he was going by etching a mark into trees he passed by, he made his way towards the road again. He crossed it, and then hidden behind the trees started to walk towards the ambush where he had lost sight of Goody.

At first he just walked upright and without much thought to being silent, but eventually he started creeping through the forest, trying to walk as quietly as he possibly could. Unbidden, a memory of playing in the forest as a kid came to mind. He had managed to successfully sneak up on a friend, not making a single noise to alert them to his presence. He hadn’t seen that friend since he was maybe eight years old, couldn’t remember their name, couldn’t even really recall what their face looked like. In his mind it was only a generic mishmash of facial features.

The image morphed into that of his mother instead, the pang of loss a lot duller now, barely even there at this point, but he pictured her face in as much detail as he possibly could, every line on her face as he had last seen her, the crow’s feet, the old-age wrinkles, grey hairs scattered in her otherwise dark braid. He pictured her features and told himself that was what she had looked like, but perhaps his memories of her face were false too, slightly off and dulled by time – just like the pain. There was no way of making sure, no photos to compare with his memories.

He shook himself internally out of his reverie. He had to focus. Even though he had to move quietly, he still needed to do this a lot faster. So he moved through the forest on quiet, quick feet.

Occasionally glancing at the road through the branches he eventually spotted something glittering in the gravel and brown dirt. Walking a little further, he saw the bullets littering the road and he crouched down in the undergrowth. Creeping forward he could soon make out voices speaking quietly.

From the road he hadn’t had time to spot the men in the trees, but now it was quite easy seeing the two men sitting on branches high up in an oak tree. They had their rifles resting on their knees and they were talking to each other in low voices, one of them letting out a quick chuckle.

Billy crept even closer until he was almost underneath them. He reached for his belt and paused. Defying gravity by throwing knives was probably not going to work very well, though it would be quieter. Instead he worked his gun out of its holster. He cocked it as quiet as possible and aimed for the man sitting to Billy’s right, far above him.

Billy fired, the man to the left let out a surprised curse. The chamber on Billy’s gun rotated. The bullet he’d shot zoomed between the branches. Billy aimed his gun at the man to the left. The man to the right tumbled backwards and fell to the ground.

Billy fired. The second bullet hit the second man in the chest and he tumbled backwards as well, but was caught by a branch, keeping his body up in the tree. Billy hurried forward. He rolled over the first man since half of him was lying on top of his rifle. A neat bullet hole on his forehead and unseeing eyes stared up at Billy. He took the guns, swinging the rifle across his back, and sticking the pistols down between belt and pants.

“Dale?” someone shouted across the road, hidden from view by foliage. Billy holstered his own gun and climbed up the tree, sitting down on an empty branch. He still couldn’t see anyone on the other side.

“Jim?” the voice called out. Billy sat silent. A few seconds passed.

“Wait here, I’ll check it out,” the man said. Billy raised an eyebrow, and wished he could turn to Goody and give him a ‘can you believe this moron?’-look. Instead he raised the rifle he had stolen, while listening to the rustling from the other side, he prepared to shoot. Moments later a man started walking across the road, crouching down low. Not that that made any difference. Billy fired, hitting him in the leg. The man let out a scream, and put a hand over the wound.

“Walt!” another voice shouted, and more rustling came from the trees on the other side. Billy lifted the rifle again.

The man – Walt – twisted where he stood in the middle of the road, hand still gripping his leg, and shouted, “no, wait!” 

Another man came bursting through the bushes Walt had come from, Billy blasted him in the chest and he fell backwards. Billy reloaded and shot Walt in the head before clambering down. He gathered up any guns or other weapons, Walt had been carrying a nice-looking dagger. As he didn’t get shot while robbing them of their weapons, Billy hurried back to Lynnie, retrieved her and walked back to the road, passing the bodies and continued onwards.

~

Bly’s base of operations was surprisingly well fortified, located at the base of a tall cliff which rose up behind the buildings, it formed a horseshoe shape. A wooden palisade as tall as Lynnie, had been erected in the opening between the cliff edges. An opening in the palisade as wide as a carriage was the only way through. All the trees in front of the palisade had been felled for at least a couple of yards, which meant the guards had an easy job of spotting anyone coming over the level ground, and they had a clear sight along the wall in both directions.

Billy had tied up Lynnie at the tree line, away from the road, and then made his way on foot far to the left of the compound before he climbed up on the cliff, keeping away from the edge, until he was further up, and then he crawled closer.

The compound consisted of a couple of shacks – Billy counted five one-story buildings, which didn’t look large enough to have more than one room. A shed with pickaxes leaning against the wall, near a large opening in the cliff – perhaps they were doing some mining as well? Less than successful mining in that case, since they had resorted to robbery. There were two larger buildings, one of them a house, the other a barn. Its large two doors were closed shut, but above them was a large opening and a wooden beam sticking out at the top. A rope hung from the beam all the way to the ground. A pen with a few horses was near the barn, which was on the opposite side from where Billy was.

Billy crawled away from the edge and sat down, a heavy sense of hopelessness descending over his mind. If he had a rope, then perhaps he could have tied it to one of the trees on the ridge since they were closer to the edge, and climbed down. Or, if he waited for it to grow dark, perhaps he could try scaling the wall. But he couldn’t wait.

His stomach twisted painfully. He had no idea what they were doing to Goody, but he knew he couldn’t wait. He considered the option of just rushing the guards at the palisade wall, but that would most likely get him killed.

A loud voice coming from inside the camp interrupted his thoughts.

“Hey, Pete? Have Walt reported back yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“He should have been here twenty minutes ago,” the first voice said. “You head out and see what’s up. He’s probably forgotten his watch again.”

Billy got to his feet and started running towards Lynnie. He reached her at the same time as someone came riding away from the compound. Billy jumped up on Lynnie and they took off along the tree line towards the road.

He didn’t cut off Pete and his horse, instead he slowed down and followed at a distance, so that he went unnoticed.

Billy and Lynnie had slowed down to a trot, when ahead of him he heard Pete shout, “Walt!”At that point Billy had Lynnie speed up into a gallop instead. He rounded the bend in the road, reins in one hand, pulling his gun with the other. He rushed towards Pete who was on the ground inspecting one of the bodies, but his head snapped up when he heard Lynnie’s hooves.

“What the...?” Pete started, reaching for his gun, but Billy was already aiming and firing before Pete had even gotten his gun out of the holster. Pete’s neck snapped back and Billy rode past him before slowing down and turning around, trotting back while Pete crumpled to the ground.

Pete’s horse, a nice-looking palomino, only jumped a little bit at the gunfire, but didn’t run off. Billy grabbed its reins, and dismounted, tying both horses to a tree. He eyed Pete thoughtfully before he nodded to himself. He walked over to the body and started stripping him down on his upper body, stripping himself when he was done, and then dressed up in Pete’s clothes. His own he put in one of the saddlebags. Tying a black kerchief over the lower half of his face, he mounted Pete’s horse, and pulled his hat down over his eyes. He gathered the reins, including Lynnie’s and started making his way back to the compound.

He left Lynnie tied to a tree again, jumped out of the way when she tried to kick him, got up on the new horse and rode towards the palisade.

As he rode closer his hand itched to move for the handle of his gun, but he restrained himself. He rode at a slow pace, and instead of his gun reached for two smaller knives, slipping them out of their sheats.

“Hey, Pete!” one of the guards called out when he was in shouting distance. Billy let the horse quicken her step somewhat. He didn’t respond to the call, or the subsequent question, “What was Walt’s excuse this time?”

He made it another few feet and he could make out their faces when they started to frown. A little bit closer, Billy thought. Just a little bit closer. He hoped they would let him, rather than just lift their rifles and shoot.

“You deaf all of a sudden?” the other guard shouted and took a step forward. Billy smiled behind the kerchief. The first guard also stepped closer, and Billy would soon be in reach, just a few more steps. They were starting to grip their rifles tighter, but neither one had raised it yet.

Billy took a deep breath and moved. Lifting his hands and whipping them forward quicker than the men could move, he threw the knives. The guards looked down in confusion and surprise at the blades buried in their stomachs, looked up at each other, and up at Billy.

They crumpled to the ground without making a sound, at the same time as Billy rode past them and in through the opening. He was inside.

There weren’t anyone loitering on the other side, so he left the horse and approached the first building on foot. He looked through the window and saw only one empty room, so he moved on to the next building.

He tried to push away all his worry, trying to focus instead, but it was difficult.

He finished with the row of buildings to the left, and was making his way across to the other side of camp, closer to the cliff the barn and larger house were located.

“Hey, you!” someone suddenly shouted.

Billy spun around, and in that same spinning motion pulled a knife which he let fly through the air almost before he stopped spinning, both his feet planted firmly on the ground in the grey dust.

The man behind him wheezed and coughed, spitting up blood, which was also trickling out where the knife was buried in his throat. Billy walked over and pulled his knife out, blood gushing and staining the sleeve of his stolen shirt red.

He kept moving, checking every building and not finding Goody. Eventually he made his way over to the barn. Getting closer, he spotted the dragons hanging out on the beam sticking out, as well as on the roof. All black-striped dark grey dragons, sitting there with their tails coiled about their bodies, watching Billy.

Peeking through a barn window he could see a group of people standing in a circle in the middle of the barn. One of the men moved and Billy caught a glimpse of someone tied to a chair. It was Goody. He had a bloody nose, and a bruise and cut on his cheek. Billy’s stomach twisted. The man who had moved out of the way stepped back in front of Goody and punched him. Billy’s blood ran cold and he had to force himself to relax his sudden white-knuckled grip on his knife handles.

He’s still alive, Billy reassured himself. He circled to the front of the barn again. He gripped the rope hanging from the beam and pulled himself up. Above him a couple of the dragons made a curious chittering sound, but no other movement or noises as Billy climbed the rope.

Once on the level with the opening, he was able to get some swinging movement into the rope and after a few tries was able to jump inside. Landing in a quiet roll, he got up on his feet in a crouch and he looked around. It was gloomy inside, and it took Billy a moment for his eyes to get used to it. The air was dusty and stale, filled with the smell of hay, horses and the inevitable smell of shit and piss from the horses.

He walked around the pile of hay on silent feet. He was on a second floor, but there was a large open square gap in the middle of the barn. Billy walked closer to the edge, here he could make out even more details. Six people, besides Jacobs, surrounding Goody. Goody who sat with his head bowed, and Billy’s chest ached with the desire to touch him, and the burning need to do harm to the people who had done this to Goody.

However, Billy didn’t just start shooting – Goody could easily get caught in the crossfire. If he could get rid of the three standing closest to Billy however…

He pulled three throwing blades, smaller than his other knives, and no proper handles to speak of, just sharp and perfectly balanced, almost like arrowheads. He had to be precise with them as they did a poor job of penetrating bone, but were very effective on soft flesh.

Billy took a deep breath and held the air in his lungs. He let the knives fly and when the last knife left his fingers, he exhaled slowly. He took a step back, hiding in the shadows.

One knife had hit its target perfectly, straight into the side of the man’s throat, blood gushing out. The second knife had only grazed the man’s throat, but he was holding his hand to his throat, blood seeping through his fingers and he gurgled something, so he could still bleed out. The third however had missed its mark completely, only embedding itself in the man’s arm. Two out, five left.

The remaining men all started shouting and drawing their guns. Jacobs stepped back from Goody and Billy could see Goody actually smiling a little, gold tooth glinting in the light from the lanterns hanging around their square. An odd calm settled over Billy at the sight of Goody’s smile.

“What’s happening?” Jacobs asked, voice like steel and the only one who didn’t seem to be panicking.

“Came from there, boss,” the man who Billy had hit in the arm said, pointing with his left arm.

Billy hurried quietly to the other side, while drawing his gun.. He stopped, took aim and fired off a shot quickly, getting one of the men in the head.

“There!” someone else shouted and pointed towards Billy. Goody, Billy thought. He needed them to fire at himself, away from Goody.

He got off one more shot, finally getting the man who hadn’t even pulled out Billy’s knife out of his arm. Before he had to get out of the way as the remaining men fired towards him.

Backing closer to the wall, Billy made his way to another spot. He rushed to the edge, taking in the scene and firing in the blink of an eye. He shot a man in the chest, and then had to hurry backwards again, to avoid another volley of gunfire. His heart hammering in his chest, he threw himself down on the floor with bullets whizzing past his head, the sound almost drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears. Three left.

He was about to crawl towards the edge to look down, when he heard boot steps from the direction Billy had entered. He rolled over on his side and looked in that direction, spotting a hatch he had missed when he walked across it, as it swung open with a loud thud.

Billy aimed and fired, only getting the hat of whoever was coming up the ladder. Two guns were lifted over the rim and fired, both aiming to the left, when Billy was on the right side of the gap. He still scrambled up on his feet and rushed towards the other end of the barn.

Across the gap, the piles of hay had been fresh, but here the pile he hid behind stank of mold and Billy sneezed loudly.

There were a couple of more shots fired, and then a pause as someone climbed the ladder. Billy leaned out and was about to shoot, when someone below the first man up the ladder fired directly towards Billy.

He threw himself out of the way and landed on the floor with a short grunt and rolled around. He was up on his feet in a heartbeat, moving to hide behind another pile of hay. He heard two sets of boots walking across the floor now.

Billy holstered his gun and pulled two daggers from near the small of his back instead. Below he heard the sound of a fist hitting something soft followed by a gasp for breath. A flash of rage almost had Billy rushing out of his hiding place.

“Hey, Chinaman!” Jacobs shouted. “Why don’t you come work for me instead, I can cut you in on a deal a lot better than whatever this has-been is paying you for being his bodyguard.”

Billy almost snorted with disdain.

“He’s Korean,” Goody corrected Jacobs, and it was followed by the sound of a slap. Billy ground his teeth together.

Meanwhile the footsteps had been approaching, and now were close enough Billy could almost hear their breathing.

“Where is that bastard hiding?” one of the men muttered. Really close now. Just a few more steps. 

One step followed by another cautious step. Billy jumped out in front of the men. The man in front, bullet hole in his hat, let out a surprised shout. Billy moved forward, slicing open the man’s stomach. The other dagger ended up in the right shoulder of the man behind. Billy spun around, stabbing the dagger in between the man’s third and fourth rib, before he was pushed away by the second man.

Billy rolled across the floor, getting up in a crouch he spun around to face the remaining man with a hiss. The man came barreling towards Billy, having dropped his gun.

Billy pulled two knives at the same time as he stood up. The man swung at Billy with his left fist. Billy ducked and slashed the man across his stomach, the blade on this knife short and thus not gutting him, just flaying open the skin.

He straightened and used his arm to block a wildly swinging right arm, which had a lot less power behind it than the left, presumably feeling somewhat numb from the knife in his shoulder.

Billy took a half step back to slice the man’s chest twice diagonally, leaving two gashes in the shape of an x. The man grunted and started to lean forward. Billy stepped past him, slicing the man on his back, leaving a large bleeding gash.

Spinning around, he grabbed the man’s shirt collar, pulling him up and slicing the man’s throat. He tossed the gurgling body into a pile of hay.

With the two men dead he had a moment to catch his breath. He looked down at his hands and noticed how bloody they were, grabbing his kerchief he wiped them off as well as he could and dropped it to the floor. 

“Dale? Winston?” Jacobs called up. “You’re being awfully quiet up there.” 

Billy gathered his knives, giving them a cursory wipe off against a pant leg to get rid of the worst of the blood before sheathing them. 

“Judging from the continued silence I’m going to guess they are dead, or otherwise incapacitated,” Jacobs said and continued, “You’re good.” 

Billy _was_ good at killing, and he already knew it. 

Only paying attention to Jacobs with one ear he pulled out his gun checking the chamber and started reloading it. 

“With your skills you’d be an excellent addition to our gang,” Jacobs said. “You’d fit right in.” 

Billy froze in motion, frowning. For a brief second he could feel that niggling doubt in his chest, that maybe, while he would never take him up on the offer, Jacobs was telling the truth about Billy, that thinking he could do anything else was just him fooling himself.

He shook his head and pushed another bullet into the chamber of his gun. He thought about Goody’s face lost in pleasure, and Billy being the reason for his pleasure; he thought about riding side by side with Goody, sharing smokes, drinks and laughs. He had been lonely before Goody came into his life. At one point he had craved that loneliness, but then he met Goody and for the first time in a long, very long time he had stopped craving solitude and started to desire true companionship again. He would never go back to the way he had been before.

He finished loading the gun and made his way over to the other side of the barn again. 

He had been known as cold and emotionless and still played the part in larger company. He could turn it on and off, and had learned how to do it when killing. He knew that wasn’t something that would end, because of the way the world was. He had stopped wishing it would be different. Not like Goody. And so he would always be willing to kill to protect Goody without hesitation, and that willingness to kill didn’t tell Jacobs anything about Billy, he knew shit about what Billy wanted with his life or what Billy could do.

He glanced over the edge and noted that there were still two men besides Jacobs, he must have not seen the other two earlier.

He stepped up to the edge and shot one of the men in the back of his head. They turned around and shot at Billy, who had just enough time to shoot the second man in the heart. He jumped back and away from the edge. Only Jacobs left.

“Give up or I’ll blow your friend’s brains out!” Jacobs shouted, apparently having figured Billy wasn’t going to be bought over to his side.

Billy edged his way to the gap and looked down. His heart almost stopped at the sight of Jacobs holding the barrel of his gun to Goody’s forehead.

Billy backed away again, boots scuffing the floor. He tried to get his heart to a normal level and breathe calmly, but he was sure even Jacobs could hear the strain in Billy’s voice when he said:

“What makes you think I’m here for him and not your pal Bly?” Billy asked, and continued in a steadier voice while walking on quiet feet. “Which one of the corpses is his by the way?”

“Neither,” Jacobs said. Billy started to slowly creep his way down the ladder. Goody had been facing that side of the barn, which meant that Jacobs was standing in front of Goody, his back to the ladder.

“He’s still in the big house, surrounded by even more of his men. You’ll die before you get to him. But not before your friend here is dead.”

Billy still hadn’t been spotted when he touched down on the ground. He glanced over and saw that Goody was looking at him with wide eyes, but Jacobs was still gazing up.

“The great confederate soldier, look how far he’s fallen.” He spat on the ground, and then glared at Goody. “Pathetic.”

“Had a good thing going, me and Bly,” Jacobs said. Billy, meanwhile, drew a knife and crept up behind him. “Him and his men robbing the stagecoaches and me finding others to blame it all on, but then Goodnight Robicheaux had to stumble his way into the picture and ruining everything. I had to—”

He stopped abruptly when Billy came to a stop behind him.

“You don’t have to explain,” Billy said. “Everyone already understands. It’s not that complicated.”

“Wha—” Jacobs started, but was abruptly interrupted by Billy’s knife sticking out of the side of his throat.

Jacobs crumpled to the floor, and Billy stepped over him, and took another step towards Goody who was surveying the carnage around them. Billy reached out for him, but when Goody turned to look at him, Billy stopped at the look on Goody’s face, and his hand fell to his side. Billy’s chest twisted in sudden heart-rending pain because Goody looked so distraught.

“You should have just left me,” Goody said and looked away. “Getting my foolish self kidnapped,” he spat out. “I didn’t even get off a single shot. What use could I ever be to you?” He looked back at Billy, eyes clouded with self-recrimination and self-loathing. “I will only lead you to your doom, Billy Rocks.”

Billy’s chest twisted again and he sank to his knees, reaching up to cradle Goody’s cheek in his palm.

“I was made for you,” Billy said, pouring all his feelings and love into his voice, into his expression. “And you were made for me.”

“You were made for yourself, cher.”

“Shut up, I’m trying… I want to…” Billy struggled for words. Goody let out a soft little ‘oh’.

“You say the sappiest shit at the drop of a hat. I’m trying…” Billy said. “I’m not… I’m not like you.”

“Nor do I want you to be,” Goody protested.

“Apparently I do,” Billy said. He put his other hand on Goody’s leg, and rose up enough to be eye to eye with Goody. “Since you so foolishly seem to believe you aren’t the single most important person to me, that you aren't everything I've ever wanted... Everything I’ve ever needed since we met.”

“Oh…”

Billy leaned in and kissed him. The comforting, relaxing feeling of Goody’s lips moving against his own, the tickling of beard against his skin, and the soft little noise of surprise Goody made at the back of his throat.

They leaned their foreheads together, just breathing. Billy still thrumming a little with adrenaline. He leaned back, hand going to the back of Goody’s head, and he held him there. Tangling his fingers in Goody’s hair.

“I fucking love you, Goodnight,” Billy said, heat in his voice as he looked into Goody’s blue eyes. “I would fight the world for you.” He stroked Goody’s cheek with his other hand. “The only place I want to be is by your side, and that is where I will die. And I will do so happily. All I need,” Billy swallowed, “all I need is for you to love me back.” His voice broke.

“Oh, but I do, Billy,” Goody said. He tried to move his arms, but he was still tied to the chair. “I do love you, with all my heart and my soul. I have belonged to you since we first met.”

“Likewise,” Billy said. His hands starting to work on Goody’s restraints, and when the ropes fell away, Goody grabbed the back of Billy’s head and pulled him into another kiss.

The barn door slammed open all of a sudden, and Billy jumped away from Goody, pulling his gun and aiming it at the open door. A tall, stocky man with red hair and a handlebar mustache came through the door and bellowed.

“What is going on here?” He came barreling towards the middle of the barn, but stopped when he saw the gun Billy had pointed at him.

“You Bly?” Goody asked.

“Of course I am,” he said, face red with anger, and Billy felt tense, almost surprised at how quickly he could go from completely relaxed to a coiled spring ready to jump.

“And this is my property you’re trespassing on.”

“In my defense I was actually brought here,” Goody said. “Against my will I might add. By your man over there.” He nodded towards Jacobs.

“Sit down,” Billy ordered Bly, pointing with the gun to add extra emphasis. Bly hesitated. “Sit,” Billy demanded. Bly grumbled but sat down. Billy glanced at Goody.

“You good enough to stand and tie him up?”

“Of course—” Goody bit back something at the end and Billy had a hard time not smiling, what with the warmth in his chest making him relax slightly again. He walked closer to Bly, but still far out of reach, and his gun never wavered from where it was pointing at him.

Goody gathered the ropes he had been bound by, and shortly Bly was trussed up.

“We’ll send the sheriff this way,” Goody said, and Billy nodded. Goody looked at Billy. “Should probably check the house, take care so no one comes and unties this bastard.”

“No need to do that,” Bly said hastily. “I’m the only one left.”

Goody raised an eyebrow at him.

“Definitely going to check it out then,” Billy said. He handed Goody his gun. “If you gather the weapons here and keep an eye on him. I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Are you sure?” Goody asked, concern evident in his voice. Billy wanted to smile, touch him, reassure him, but he was acutely aware of Bly’s eyes on them.

“I’ll be quick,” Billy said, trying to put everything he wasn’t saying or doing into his voice. “If I don’t think I can take them alone, I’ll be back.”

Goody still didn’t seem convinced, but Billy hurried out of the barn and off towards the big house, though he took a detour to the shed first, gathering some rope with him.  
He crept inside through an unlocked back door and made his way through the rooms on the first floor, not running into anyone until he opened a room to what turned out to be a bedroom, and found a man napping on the bed. He seemed carelessly unconcerned about the recent gunfight in the barn, which they must have heard. Billy shook his head disapprovingly and snuck inside the room. He took the man’s weapons, gagged him and tied him to the bed.

He found three men playing cards around a table in the kitchen, all of them armed, but so focused on their game none of them even noticed that Billy was crouched low in the door opening watching them. He frowned, thinking how he would deal with them, and then decided to just go for it. He straightened up and said in his most commanding voice, a voice he’d copied from a deeply unpleasant man Billy had had the misfortune of meeting early on in his life in America, “Hands up!”

All three men raised their hands automatically, and then looked over at Billy, who had both guns he’d taken pointed at them. They still started to reach for their own guns.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Billy said. “Get up, toss your guns to the floor and kick them over to me.”

Reluctantly and grumbling, they did as they were told. Billy tossed a length of rope to one of the men.

“Tie up your friends.”

“They’re not really my friends, we’re just working together,” the man said.

“Hey!” both of the men said. Billy gave him his most deeply unamused look. He had once used it on Goody in order to get him to hand over the last piece of a particularly delicious chocolate cake. It worked this time too as the man started tying up his glaring ‘friends’. Once they were dealt with, Billy tied up the last man and pushed them all inside the pantry.

The pantry door was fitted with a padlock, and when Billy had clicked it shut he heard steps in the staircase, which was the other way in and out of the kitchen. Billy whirled around, guns raised. He also glanced at the pile of guns, but it wasn’t anywhere close to the stairs.

“Please don’t shoot!”

It was the young black kid who had been there when Jacobs had tried to capture Goody the first time.

“I’ve been trying to get away from Jacobs and Bly for months,” the kid said, his hands in the air. “Please just let me leave.”

Billy eyed him. He wasn’t as trusting as Goody, but on the other hand it was clearly a kid, and youth made it very easy to make mistakes.

“You armed?” Billy asked, even though he clearly saw the gun in the kid’s holster, and the kid nodded. “Take it out slowly and put it on the ground.”

He did as he was told. Billy was quite liking this thing where people did what he told them to do – there was a warm feeling of satisfaction in his stomach. The kid was trembling as he straightened up again, and Billy didn’t think he’d make it for very long unless he toughened up a bit.

“Kick it over.”

The gun rattled across the floorboards, and Billy stopped it with his foot. But he didn’t bend down to pick it up. Had never even moved the aim of his gun.

“Alright, leave the horse I left by the wall, but take any other horse and get out of here.”

“Thank—” he started.

“Don’t thank me, just get out of here.”

The kid nodded rapidly and hurried away.

Billy went upstairs and checked out all the rooms, but didn’t find any more people, and he soon left through the same backdoor he had entered.

He spotted the kid riding past on a bay horse and leaving through the opening in the wall. Billy hurried over to the palisade and fetched the palomino he’d left and then returned to the barn.

Billy met Goody outside, a pile of weapons at his feet and he was buckling his own gun belt, handing Billy his gun back.

“Well, who is this then?” Goody said, looking at the horse Billy was leading. Billy shrugged.

“No idea, I stole her today.”

Goody reached out a hand and she nosed at it curiously.

“Hello, Angel,” Goody said. His voice was soft and he petted the golden fur on her head. She closed her eyes and lowered her head as he scratched her forehead. Billy shook his head and tried and failed to suppress a smile. Of course Goody would bond with any horse introduced to him.

He put a hand on Goody’s arm.

“Come on, Lynnie’s waiting at the edge of the forest.”

He helped Goody up in the saddle, even though the man protested that he could do it himself. Billy gathered the reins and walked first, leading them away from Bly’s compound.

“Those are not the same clothes you wore earlier,” Goody said as they passed through the hole in the wall.

“I had to do thi—” Billy started, but Goody interrupted.

“I can’t believe you took the time to change clothes before coming to my rescue.”

“I did not— there was a whole thing—” he paused and turned his head, giving Goody a suspicious glare. Goody started grinning. “Are you serious right now?”

“Not one bit,” Goody said and laughed. After a second Billy chuckled as well.

~

They returned to Tahoe, informed the deputy of the location of Bly’s base, providing them with a map with directions. Billy dragged Goody to a doctor, despite his protestations.

That evening, they ended up in a saloon, drinking and celebrating. Billy hid a smile in his pint of beer as he listened to Goody entertaining the other patrons with a highly exaggerated and made up account of their adventures in the forest.

“And Billy here fought off two mountain lions armed with nothing but a knife and his intimidating personality,” Goody said, and looked over at Billy who took another drink of beer, watching the way Goody’s eyes followed the movement of Billy’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed.

Goody cleared his throat, no one really noticing his lapse in attention, and he returned to his audience, which had grown considerably in the half hour that Goody had been holding court. Detailing an adventure that was becoming more and more improbable. Though, Billy thought, perhaps he could fight off a mountain lion. He had never tried. Or maybe that was the alcohol speaking. With that, and the success in rescuing Goody, it was difficult not to get a little bit cocky with his confidence.

“And we came upon those darn fire breathers, and you know, that deep in the forest they can grow to the size of dogs,” Goody said. Billy did not snort, but it was a close thing. Instead he pulled out two cigarettes, putting both in his mouth and lighting them. Keeping one between his lips, he was able to hand the other one to Goody despite the way he was waving his hands about, trying to convince the audience of the size of the dragons.

Billy took a drag on his cigarette, letting the smoke settle him, helping him resist the impulse to drag Goody away to their room to have him all to himself. He’d always preferred the long rides between towns, and the way they could be themselves when no one else was there. There was no pretending between them, they could just be relaxed and open with each other. Not that Goody didn’t tell stories when it was just the two of them, and he could be just as animated as he was in a saloon. However, Billy always got the impression that when it was just the two of them, Goody told stories because he really enjoyed it. Among people, it seemed to be more of a defense mechanism. If Goody was already talking about other things, no one could ask him to talk about the war.

Billy sat back in his chair, relaxing with the warm feeling in his chest, stealing quick glances at how beautiful Goody was in the warm light of the saloon, and how his eyes seemed to glitter and shine. He sat so close to Goody their thighs were touching underneath the table, and he could just listen to the cadence of Goody’s voice. Goody was an excellent storyteller, always exaggerating, but there was something about the way he told it that always made whatever he was saying seem almost plausible – and people, just for a little while, bought whatever it was. Billy suspected the accent was a big part of it.

Billy closed his eyes. He didn’t doze off, but he let himself relax and get lost in a haze of opium and the feeling of things actually being okay for once, actually more than okay.

~

At some point, Goody’s audience started disappearing and the saloon itself started emptying as it got even later. The level of noise lowered until it was just a low murmuring, and then nothing.

Billy felt Goody shift and then move his thigh away from Billy’s, heard the sound of a chair being pushed across uneven floorboards. Billy opened his eyes, mind a little bit hazy but in a way he was used to and could enjoy. He watched Goody walk across the floor to the now abandoned piano. Billy smiled.

Goody sat down and after a moment’s hesitation started playing. The barman didn’t even look over from where he was doing inventory, and when he walked through a door to a backroom, Billy got up and walked over to Goody.

He put his hand on Goody’s back, which made him falter just for a second, but he picked it right back up at the same time as Billy brushed his fingers across Goody’s shoulder blades. Billy sat down on a chair next to the piano.

Goody started singing quietly, something in French which Billy didn’t understand, but enjoyed listening to, because it was in Goody’s low voice. Billy watched him, too high and drunk and in love to control his own expression, but they were alone anyway. Goody looked up at him all of a sudden and caught Billy’s look, a light flush colored his cheeks and he looked down at his hands again.

Goody was beautiful like this, he always was beautiful, but in this moment there was something almost ethereal about him. He looked at Goody and tried to imprint every small detail of him in his mind, because this was a moment to treasure. He wished for a picture, to keep it with him forever.

“I want to keep you forever,” Billy murmured in Korean.

Goody looked up at him again, reaching the end of the first melody he began a different one – something soft and slow.

“What?”

“I—” Billy started, but the barman chose that moment to step back into the main room and loudly clear his throat.

“I’m closing now, gentlemen.”

“Oh, of course, beg pardon,” Goody said, his hands stilling, and Billy missed the sound. He felt the moment they’d been having slipping away.

Goody walked over to the barkeep and handed him a few coins before they left.

Outside only the moon illuminated the dark street they walked down. Billy walked close to Goody, his hand brushing against Goody’s. He was just contemplating if it was dark enough, and if they were properly alone, for him to take Goody’s hand in his, when Goody grabbed Billy’s sleeve and tugged him into a tight, dark space between two buildings.

“Wha—” Billy started, but then Goody was cupping his face between his hands and kissing him, slow and passionate. Billy felt himself melt against the wall behind his back, his own hands going to Goody’s waist, holding on to him.

Goody started to pull back and Billy chased after his lips, leaning in and kissing him again, delighting in the feel of the hot mouth against his, and the soft noises Goody was making as they deepened the kiss. Billy licked his way into Goody’s mouth, tasting him. He sucked on Goody’s bottom lip, holding it between his lips and feeling heat pool low in his stomach.

Billy eventually did pull back, tipping his head back against the wall, but still holding onto Goody tightly. He opened his eyes slowly and saw Goody looking at him, the corners of his eyes soft, and his mouth smiling with red swollen lips, and the moonlight made him look just as gorgeous as the lantern light in the saloon.

Goody murmured something in French.

“What?” Billy asked. He had only caught the word ‘cher’ because he was so used to hearing it.

“I’m only complimenting you on your extraordinary beauty,” Goody said, and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Billy’s mouth. Billy’s eyes closed and he felt Goody’s soft lips against the tip of his nose, followed by one eyelid, and then the middle of his forehead as he tilted his head down.

“Goody,” Billy whispered.

“Yes, love?”

“Take me to a bed,” Billy said.

“Right away,” Goody said.

~

Billy felt a little bit sore as he swung a leg across the palomino’s back the next morning. He was going to keep her, and with Goody continuing to call her Angel apparently the name was sticking around as well. 

It was still early morning as they rode out of Tahoe, having had very little sleep, but Billy was feeling a bone-deep satisfaction and having a good feeling about the day.

“So, Nevada?” Billy said after a little while. “There aren’t any forests there, right?”

“Can’t say there are, it’s mostly desert,” Goody said.

“Good,” Billy said. “Then Nevada it is.” He caught the smile Goody shot towards him, and Billy smiled back. This was all that he needed, just Goody riding at his side, talking, or singing and smiling.

Above them, two black dragons circled each other before taking off, flying across the water of Lake Tahoe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this. I had a lot of fun writing it.  
> You can come talk to me on tumblr: tramstrams.tumblr.com


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